


Victory

by TheWanderingAvarian



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Child Abuse, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Seriously this is dark stuff you guys, Strangulation, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-06 02:09:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 22,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15876306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWanderingAvarian/pseuds/TheWanderingAvarian
Summary: For as long as she could remember, Aridhel Mahariel had lived in fear. Fear of her mother, fear of Keeper Lanira, fear of the rest of the Clan. For years she waits for the day she can escape; for Arlathvhen to come, for her chance to finally leave. But even that seems far away—until one day the choice is taken from her, and a new one is presented: leave or die.





	1. When Mother is Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fic for the Dragon Age fandom (hooray)! I've wanted to write for it for a while now, but I finally have some inspiration. This piece centres around Aridhel and will probably be the first of a series leading through most of the main games—so, without further ado, I hope you enjoy this first chapter! (Also thank you to Toshi_Nama, who was my beta for this piece!)

Aridhel sat quietly in the corner of the tent; watching, waiting. Mother said she’d be back by now. She never was, though. She should probably expect that by now, but every time her mother left, some small part in the back of Aridhel’s mind told her that this time, _this time_ , it everything would be alright. The clan wouldn’t notice. There would be no punishment.

But it wasn’t. She was always wrong.

Aridhel could see the light fading from the sky through the flap into the tent. Her hands were shaking. Keeper Lanira would be here soon, here to check if Mother was home. She wouldn’t be though. Then there would be trouble. There was always trouble. Aridhel could hear light footsteps outside the tent. It could be Mother. But it wasn’t.

A figure appeared, silhouetted in the entrance to the tent. A tall, thin figure, with long fingers, and a robe that draped down to the ground, hanging off their bony frame, making them look like a huge, terrifying crow. The figure stepped into the tent, illuminated by the lamplight within. Its face came into view and Aridhel instinctively shrunk back. It was an old face, so old its skin seemed to be sagging off the skull beneath, sharp bones appearing to be mere moments away from puncturing through the thin layer on top. It had huge, pale blue eyes, which flickered back and forth, sightless, after many years of use, only making the face seem more skull-like. Its long pointed ears sagged at the edges.

Keeper Lanira was here.

She stalked into the tent, making barely a sound, almost like some malevolent ghost hovering over its grave. She moved her head back and forth; listening, waiting for something, just like Aridhel. Aridhel hardly dared to breathe. It always happened this way. Please, Creators, save her from this. It was always exactly one minute. One minute until it happened. Amazing, how one minute could seem like all of eternity. One long, long minute.

Keeper Lanira turned towards her with the speed of a wolf, lunging at her, grabbing her by the wrists.

“I can hear you girl. No good hiding from these ears,” she said, with what might have once been a smile, but seemed to Aridhel more of a snarl, exposing two rows of yellowed, crooked teeth.

Her breath smelt like rotten meat. Aridhel tried not to gag.

“Where’s your mother, da’len? She’s not hiding from me again, is she?” asked Keeper Lanira, in what she probably thought was a comforting voice.

“No, Keeper,” whispered Aridhel, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure the Keeper could hear it. “She’s not here, Keeper.”

“ _Where_ is she?” asked Keeper Lanira, a kind of subtle menace underlying her sickly sweet tone.

“I don’t know, Keeper,” said Aridhel, lying through her teeth. She had to say it. Mother had told her to say it. If she didn’t it would only get worse.

“Liar,” said Keeper Lanira. “You know what happens to children that lie, don’t you da’len?”

“Fen’harel haunts their dreams,” whispered Aridhel, knowing the story off by heart. She’d been told it so many times now. “He senses their wickedness and sends them bad dreams...dreams that hurt people.”

“Yes, dreams that hurt people,” said Keeper Lanira, who seemed pensive now. “You don’t like having dreams like that, do you da’len?”

“No, Keeper,” said Aridhel, now trembling slightly. This was new. New was bad.

“And yet, you always lie to old Keeper Lanira. Why is that I wonder?” said the Keeper, loosening her grip on Aridhel’s wrists. Aridhel resisted the urge to wrench them free. “Is it because you’re afraid? Or is it because you’re like your mother?”

“I’m not like her!” hissed Aridhel, anger suddenly flowing through her very veins. “I’ll never be like her!”

The Keeper laughed, a horrible, hacking sound, like a stone had gotten stuck in her throat. Aridhel felt her blood turn to ice. What had she done? She shouldn’t have said that. She shouldn’t have said that.

“Here I thought you were just a useless little scrub, here to make us realise our folly in not killing that silly woman when she was a baby like her mother told us to,” said Keeper Lanira, giving that terrible, terrible smile once again. “But no...you’re something else, aren’t you girl?”

“I don’t know, Keeper,” said Aridhel, backing away. It had never gone like this before. She didn’t know what to do.

“Don’t know?” asked Keeper Lanira, with a scowl. She was angry. This was bad. “Are you useless or not girl? Answer me!”

“I’m not useless!” she growled, then shrunk back, horrified.

“Good,” said the Keeper, that leering smile plastered across her face once more. She leant over towards Aridhel, her breath warm on her face, and put a long claw-like finger beneath her chin, lifting her head to look her straight in the eyes. “Then we’ll keep you around for a bit longer, won’t we?”

Aridhel glared at the Keeper, knowing she wouldn’t see and getting one small piece of satisfaction. Keeper Lanira moved her hand away, letting Aridhel’s head drop again.

“Let me know when your mother returns, da’len,” said Keeper Lanira, finally sweeping towards the exit. “I need to speak with her.”

“As you say, Keeper,” said Aridhel, quietly, scowling at her back as she turned away.

Then she was gone. The light in the tent seemed to glow brighter now. Aridhel could feel her body shaking with tension. She hated Keeper Lanira so much. But she could never say anything. If she did there would be consequences. Terrible, terrible consequences. And she was afraid of what the Keeper might do if she did. Afraid of what Mother would do if she did. So she stayed quiet and still, and waited for Mother to return.


	2. Rejection

Aridhel was sitting not far from the centre of the clearing where the other children had gathered. They were all looking intently at Hahren Rellia. Aridhel was hovering not far away. She wanted to hear the story the Hahren was telling, but Mother had told her not to get too close to the other children. They were supposed to be bad. They wouldn’t understand her.  

Aridhel frowned. She couldn’t quite hear from where she was sitting. She wanted to get closer. Surely it would be fine as long as no one noticed her? She crept forwards, trying not to be seen. Then Rellia turned her head towards her, her large brown eyes quickly alighting on Aridhel’s face. Aridhel instinctively shrank away. What if she was angry that Aridhel had come near?

“Come here, child,” said Rellia, smiling warmly at her. Aridhel was confused. She wasn’t supposed to be allowed to listen.

She stumbled towards the gathering, carefully sitting down with the other children. She was dazed. She’d never been allowed to come this close before. It was...exciting. She looked up at Hahren Rellia in wonder as she continued to tell her story.

The Hahren spoke of the other clans, of their brethren who lived far away, and used their aravels as ships on the open sea, rather than sailing them across land. She spoke of how they travelled the glistening waves, and fished in the water for food, almost never setting foot on land. Aridhel was enthralled. She could almost see the ships sailing before her eyes. 

Then she felt a sharp force at the back of her head, yanking her backwards. The vision was shattered. 

She immediately whipped her head around to see who had pulled her hair, quickly catching sight of a boy with a thin, pale face, smirking at her with a fistful of hair in his hand. She glowered at him.

“Do you know what orange hair means?” he asked mockingly. 

Aridhel was confused—her hair was just hair, why did it have to mean anything? She continued to scowl at him. 

“It means you’re like your mother,” he said, sneering. “Nothing but trouble.” 

Aridhel saw red. This boy didn’t know anything. She was  _ nothing _ like Mother. She would  _ never _ be like Mother. Aridhel was throwing her fist at his face before she even knew what she was doing, knocking him straight into the floor. He screamed as she did, which made her smile. Served him right for pulling her hair. She quickly stopped smiling, however, as someone with strong hands grabbed her under the shoulders and pulled her forcefully away from the boy. She looked up. It was Hahren Rellia, who was now frowning deeply. 

“Aridhel!” she said, once she had pulled Aridhel away. “We do  _ not _ hurt other children, do you understand me?”

“But he—”

“No buts!” she said, still annoyed. “Go back to your tent and think about what you’ve done. You can come back once you’re ready to apologise to Daravhel.”

_ Daravhel _ . That was the boy’s name. There was no way she was apologising to him though. He’d pulled her hair and said she was like Mother.  _ She _ should be the one getting the apology. 

“He—” she began trying to protest her case, but Hahren Rellia cut her off again. 

“No, Aridhel,” she said firmly. “I know your mother does things differently to the rest of the Clan, but you cannot simply ignore the rules. Hurting each other is unacceptable.” 

Her face softened a touch after she said this, and she kneeled down to be level with Aridhel. 

“If you don’t want to stay with her you can always ask Keeper Lanira for guidance. You know that, don’t you Aridhel?” she said.

Aridhel felt a cold dark pit in her stomach. The idea of asking Keeper Lanira for anything was terrifying. She still had bruises on her arms from where she was grabbed last time the Keeper went looking for Mother and couldn’t find her. Why didn’t Hahren Rellia understand? She felt tears began to well up in her eyes, though she tried furiously to wipe them away. 

“Come now, da’len,” said Rellia, looking concerned. “Keeper Lanira can seem scary I know, but she’s not that bad, I promise.”

She didn’t understand. None of them did. She was...alone. Rellia tried to reach out to wipe away her tears, but Aridhel swatted her hand away, then started running in the opposite direction, as far away from her and the camp as possible. She didn’t understand. Or maybe she did. She just didn’t care. The idea sat like a rock in the back of her mind, as tears flowed down her face, making it hard to know where she was going. She felt her foot hit something hard, sending tumbling towards the ground, hitting it hard. 

Her hands hurt. 

She continued to weep as she saw at the grass stains on her clothes. Now both Mother and Keeper Lanira would be angry at her. She’d messed it up again. She tried frantically to wipe her eyes and nose, but only ended up feeling worse than before. It was always her fault somehow. This was all her fault. But no...that boy, Daravhel. He’d been the one who started it. He’d been the one to pull her hair. But Hahren Rellia had said nothing to  _ him _ … Perhaps it wasn’t just her, perhaps it was just  _ them _ . Hahren Rellia had told her to speak to Keeper Lanira, but Keeper Lanira would only be furious with her, only make everything worse. There was nowhere in the Clan for her. Mother was right. They just didn’t understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, this chapter sure is a fun one. 
> 
> It was interesting to write about how Aridhel's personality developed over time, and this is pretty much the moment she realises the Clan won't help her with her problems with her mother. Keeper Lanira has them enough within their thrall that none of the adults would seriously believe she'd been hurting Aridhel, and the children notice how she's always on the sidelines, unwilling to interact with them and isolate her that way. It's a pretty brutal situation, which, unfortunately, she won't be getting out of for a while. (I sure do like making my characters suffer.)
> 
> Anyway, thank you to everyone who's been reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if you did, feel free to let me know!


	3. Magic

Aridhel stared down at her hands in horror and confusion. Keeper Lanira had been standing over her, about to reach out to grab her arms again, when Aridhel had flung her arms out, trying to make her back away, and, just as she had done so, a huge gust of wind had come from nowhere, forcibly blowing Keeper Lanira backwards, into the side of the tent. She was still lying on the ground, just picking herself back up again. Aridhel could feel her body shaking violently. This was the end. Keeper Lanira was going to kill her for this.

She fell to her knees as Keeper Lanira rose to her full height once more. She tried to make herself as small as possible, praying to Mythal to protect her. Keeper Lanira towered over her. Aridhel waited for a blow to fall.

But...none came.

Instead, Keeper Lanira bent down and grabbed her by the chin, pulling her head upwards, forcing her to look at her pale, sunken face. She was smiling. Aridhel tried not to shudder.

“I was right about you, wasn’t I, girl?” she said, and Aridhel tried once more not to gag at the smell of her breath. “You will be useful after all.”

“What was that?” asked Aridhel, hardly daring to breathe while Keeper Lanira was so close.

Keeper Lanira chuckled.

“That, da’len, was magic."

Aridhel couldn’t help but gasp slightly. She had magic? But that meant—

“Oh yes, that’s right girl,” said Keeper Lanira, still smiling in that terrible, terrible way. “Just like your mother. Funny how that happens, isn’t it?”

“But—”

“But what, girl?” asked Keeper Lanira, pinching her face tightly. “You’ll need to be able to control that gift of yours you know. If you can’t and you end up hurting someone...well. You know the punishment for hurting someone, don’t you?”

Aridhel did. Well, she knew what the punishment would be for _her_. Keeper Lanira had mentioned it several times after what happened with Daravhel. She would be cast out, given a pack of food and left to fend for herself in the wilds. She wasn’t entirely sure whether the Clan would really let Keeper Lanira go through with it, but she didn’t want to run the risk either way.

“And I won’t teach you, so you’ll have to try very hard, won’t you?” said Keeper Lanira, still holding her face very tightly in her powerful fingers.

“Why?” asked Aridhel, tears coming to her eyes again. She’d been right. The Keeper was going to kill her. One way or another.

“Well, after that little display, we can’t risk you hurting me, now can we?” asked Keeper Lanira, still leering down at her. “Unless…” she trailed off, forcing Aridhel to ask after her.

“What?” asked Aridhel, panic clear in her voice. “What do I have to do?”

“An excellent question, da’len,” said Keeper Lanira, now smiling in a more friendly way, even if she was still terrifying. “It won’t be very hard. All you need to do for me to teach you is this: you find out where your mother is going, you find out what she is doing, and you tell _me_.”

“But Mother—”

“I know, I know, she tells you not to tell these things to poor old Keeper Lanira. She thinks I don't know that you know. But I do. I know  _everything_ ,” she said, now glowering down at Aridhel, making her feel more frightened than ever before. “Now then girl, what will it be? Either you tell me what your Mother is doing, and I teach you to control that gift of yours...or you don’t. You _refuse_ to help me, and must try to control it by yourself. And when you slip—and you will slip, girl, that I promise you, you will be cast out of this Clan and left to the wolves. That is your choice,  _da’len_. Please do consider it carefully.”

Aridhel took a deep, shuddering breath. Keeper Lanira was still holding her face, her huge, sightless eyes flicking back and forth with a strange kind of menace. Mother would hate her for this—more than she did already at any rate. But what other choice did she have? Being fed to wolves? She couldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t.

“I’ll tell you,” she said, tears now falling down her cheeks, rage flowing through her veins even as she said it. “I’ll tell you everything.”

“Good girl,” said Keeper Lanira, with one, last, menacing smile, before releasing her face and sweeping out of the tent.

Aridhel felt her heart thundering in her chest. She’d betrayed Mother. She would never forgive her for this. But there was nothing else she could do. She was trapped. There was no escape. She just had to survive. That was all that mattered now. Everything else fell away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keeper Lanira is literally the worst. I don't know how this terrifying woman spawned in my mind, I only know that she did, and now she's here to haunt your nightmares. While the manifestation of magic would usually be cause for celebration in the Clan, on this occasion Lanira just sees it as another opportunity to control and manipulate Aridhel and her mother. Naturally, the entire experience is pretty horrifying for poor Aridhel. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's been reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if you did, please let me know!


	4. Just Another Day

Aridhel strung the bow as tightly as she could, trying to aim right at the centre of the target sitting just ahead of her. Her hands shook. She lined up the shot. The arrow went whizzing through the air, landing with a satisfying _thunk_ in the woven target. She smiled. She was getting better at this. She took another arrow from the quiver on her back and began to string it.

A stone came flying through the air, smacking the back of her hand, sending the arrow flying away.

She hissed and cradled her hand to her chest, looking around to see who had thrown the rock. A short elven boy was standing at the edge of the clearing, sneering at her. Daravhel. He was ten now, only two years older than her, but she still hated him with all her soul. He and his friends had continued to go out of their way to torment her, and none of the clan seemed interested in stopping it. Not even Mother. Especially not Mother.

She began to quickly back away. If he was here then his friends probably were too.

“Hey, Orin, look who I found!” yelled Daravhel, the moment he saw her starting to back away.

Curse him.

Orin came running out from the bushes, cannoning into her with the force of a small bear. He quickly wrenched the quiver of arrows away from her, hurting her shoulder, then snatched the bow from her grasp as she tried to jab him in the eyes with it. He threw the arrows over to Liro, who had emerged out of the bushes as well, and she caught them effortlessly, looking at Aridhel with a smug smile.

“Well, well, well what have we got here?” asked Daravhel, striding smugly over to Orin, who handed him the bow. “Cursed little Aridhel trying to practise with a bow. Trying to take after your mother?”

“That one again Daravhel?” asked Aridhel, sneering right back at him. Yes, it hurt, but she wasn’t going to let _him_ know that.

Daravhel smirked and, with a quick movement, snapped the bow in two.

“Can’t have your cursed hands corrupting this bow, Aridhel,” he said, still smiling.

“Wow. Now you’ve pissed off Keeper Lanira. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled you’ve broken one of our bows,” said Aridhel, sarcasm dripping from every word.

“She’s definitely going to be pissed at _you_ breaking one of our bows,” said Daravhel, that infuriating smile still resolutely on his face. High time that changed, thought Aridhel. “What do you think?” he asked, looking around at his little gang. “Did Aridhel here break one of our precious bows?”

The two other children nodded in unison. All right, since this clearly wasn’t going her way, it was time for some payback.

“Hey Daravhel,” she said, an idea already forming in her mind. “You aren’t dressed for the cold.”

“What are you talking about idiot?” asked Daravhel, though the smirk had finally been dislodged from his face. “It’s summer—”

He was unable to finish the sentence as Aridhel blasted him with a column of ice. He screamed as he went flailing towards Liro, who tried to dodge unsuccessfully out of the way, only to get squashed as Daravhel fell on her. Orin seemed confused for about two seconds before doing what he always did whenever something went wrong with their little group, and went screaming for the Keeper. Aridhel looked over her handiwork. Daravhel was frozen and flailing wildly on the ground, while Liro was struggling underneath him. Her work was done here. Time to go.

Aridhel went running off into the trees. There would be punishment for this later, she knew. Especially since Keeper Lanira was in a particularly bad mood at the moment. Mother had left the clan for almost a week this time, visiting _him_. Elgar’nan, how Aridhel _hated_ him. If he died terribly in some freak accident one day she’d be overjoyed, Mythal curse her for thinking that, but it was true. He was the cause of all of her woes.

She was getting close to the camp again. It was probably best to lay low for a while. She spied her tent over in the corner of the camp, away from the other tents. As usual. Aridhel crept over to the tent, entering cautiously. There was no telling what kind of mood Mother would be in today.

A bowl went flying past her head as she entered.

A bad mood.

Aridhel tried to noiselessly move into her favourite corner and not be noticed by Mother, but she had no such luck. Her mother grabbed her by the arm as she tried to get by, and held her in place. She was a mess. Her long red hair was tangled and matted, and her clothes were in disarray. Her face was wet with tears. The Keeper had not been kind with her words.

“Do you hate me Aridhel?” she asked, her voice trembling as she looked deep into Aridhel’s eyes.

Aridhel was slightly taken off guard by the question. She didn’t know whether or not to answer. She didn’t really know the answer at all. Did she hate her mother? Probably. But she didn’t know for sure, and that was enough for her to remain silent. Her mother took it as an answer anyway.

“Oh you do, you do don’t you?” she said, collapsing into sobs. “I’ve been such a bad mother to you, Keeper Lanira was right!”

Aridhel resisted the urge to roll her eyes. As though Keeper Lanira had ever cared about her. She just wanted to get to Mother. And she had. She always did. Now Mother would be like this for about a week—until she forgot and went off to see _him_ again. Or she didn’t forget, and went to see _him_ anyway, because why not? It wasn’t like it meant anything. She pried her mother’s hands off her arms, which only made her cry harder, and went over to her corner. Even in her lowest states, Mother knew better than to interfere with Aridhel’s corner. It was the only safe place in the camp. Even if Mother was still crying only a few feet away.

Aridhel fished a scroll out of her bag. She’d stolen it from Keeper Lanira during her last magic lesson. It wasn’t like she could read them anymore, so what was the harm? The harm, was, as it turned out, extra work. Lots of extra work. She hadn’t been finished until past midnight that night, but the important thing was that she had the scroll. It contained writing on how to dream lucidly in the Fade, something Aridhel had never quite mastered. And, since the Fade was one of the only places it was actually _pleasant_ to be in the camp, Aridhel was invested in learning about it.

It was hard work though. Aridhel had difficulty reading Elvhen, since Keeper Lanira wasn’t the best teacher what with her eyesight, and her First, Marin, had just snorted when she asked him to teach her. So she sat, squinting at the words on the page, wishing she’d also stolen a dictionary. She could just about make out the main passages of the text, but the scribbles in the margins and the asides were too much for her.

It was also hard to concentrate with Mother still wailing in the centre of the room. She was probably complaining about Aridhel, but Aridhel had long ago learned to tune out her criticisms. Mostly.

Sometimes she’d stay up at night and wonder whether Mother was right—whether she _was_ a bad daughter for not sympathising and taking care of her. Even if she _was_ right though, it would hardly do much good if she did. The Clan would hate her either way, and Aridhel would rather anger Mother than Keeper Lanira. After all, agreeing to tell the Keeper where Mother went was the only reason she was having magic lessons at all.

She tried to tell herself that Mother brought it on herself, but seeing her crying so pitifully like this...it hurt. After all, now she knew Keeper Lanira had done exactly the same thing to Mother when she was a child. But if she didn’t tell the Keeper what Mother was doing then she would be cast out from the Clan, and she couldn’t let that happen. If she did then she’d die, or the templars would catch her and take her to the Circle. There were few things worse than the Clan in Aridhel’s mind, but living in one of the shem Circles was one of them. So she had to tell the Keeper. She had to.

Mother was crying so loudly. Her hands were shaking. May Fen’harel curse them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was another interesting one. I wanted to explore how isolated Aridhel is from the rest of the Clan due to both her mother and Keeper Lanira's behaviour. Unfortunately, Aridhel's mother's isolation and behaviour reflects directly back onto her daughter, causing her to be distrusted in the Clan, only serving to make Aridhel more bitter and less inclined to try and get along with anyone else in the Clan. It's a vicious circle to be sure. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's read this far, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if so, let me know!


	5. Magic Lessons

The older she got, the more Aridhel was amazed that Keeper Lanira was still alive. The feeling was particularly potent on that particular day, while the Keeper was lying back in her seat, looking for all the world like Falon’din had already guided her soul through the Fade and left an empty husk behind. The only sign of life she exhibited while lying back in her chair was the slow rise and fall of her chest.

The silence was deafening.

Aridhel always hated it when she didn’t say anything during their lessons. Her eyes were wide open, but completely unmoving, and Aridhel had no idea if she was asleep or awake— listening for Aridhel’s every move, or not paying attention at all. Mistaking one for the other had cost her dearly last time; she still had bruises from where the Keeper had grabbed her by the arms and lifted her into the air. So instead she decided to play it safe and continue the exercise, pointless as it seemed.

She was conjuring a small flame to her fingers and keeping it there, making it expand and contract with her breath. An ‘exercise in control’ Keeper Lanira had said, with a pointed sneer. That was usually her way of saying she didn’t think Aridhel was up to it. Aridhel had been doing it for almost two hours now, which was no surprise as the Keeper liked to make her do things for hours on end—she said it was for practice, but Aridhel knew it was just to tire her out. Then, because she was tired, she’d screw up during hunting practice later. Then Khin would be angry with her again, and the Clan would continue to hate her. Just like the Keeper wanted.

Aridhel wanted to sigh, but even that was risky with Keeper Lanira around. She didn’t want to be reprimanded for not taking her duties seriously. Not today, anyway.

There was a kind of creaking sound as Keeper Lanira finally shifted in her seat. She was definitely awake now.

“Marin!” she croaked, her voice crackling horribly as she spoke.

Marin seemed to materialise next to her with these words, even though Aridhel hadn’t seen any sign of him for hours.

“Be a good boy and get me some water would you?” she said, grasping his arm with one of her long, clawed hands.

“Yes, Keeper,” he said, with a short bow, and turned to get some water, not missing the chance to sniff disdainfully at Aridhel as he walked by. Aridhel just glowered at him in return.

“You, girl!” barked Keeper Lanira, making Aridhel jump. “Concentrate on that fire!”

“Yes, Keeper,” said Aridhel, not wanting to anger her further.

She continued in silence until Marin returned with the water. Keeper Lanira grasped at it, lifting the cup to her lips and pouring the liquid straight down her throat, making a horrible rasping sound as she swallowed. Aridhel continued to breathe evenly: in...out...in...out...keeping the flame constant with her breathing. When Keeper Lanira was finished, she set the cup down with a _bang_ on the stool beside her. Aridhel didn’t flinch. This was a test.

She could always tell when it was a test, because Keeper Lanira became very focused on her, her usually twitchy eyes completely still. She also got a kind of...presence around her. When the rest of the Clan was around, she usually pretended to be a sickly, but intelligent, old woman. Aridhel knew better though. Keeper Lanira was incredibly strong; whether because of her magic, or some other, more sinister reason, Aridhel didn’t know, but she knew it was better not to test her strength. Fortunately Marin was there, though she could scarcely believe she was thinking that, so the Keeper probably wouldn’t do anything _too_ drastic.  

She rose, her old bones clicking as she did, and loomed tall over where Aridhel was sitting. Aridhel could remember when she was still a young child, and Keeper Lanira was the most terrifying person she’d ever met. She’d always seemed to Aridhel like a massive bird of prey, always watching her with hungry, unseeing eyes, waiting for her chance to strike. She felt the same right now, with the Keeper towering over her once more, but told herself to keep her breathing level. That was the most important thing. That was what the Keeper was testing her for—making sure her magic was nothing less than perfect. And it would be. That would show her.

The Keeper began to move slowly around her, her clothes trailing behind her, but her eyes always fixed on Aridhel, never looking away, never blinking, just staring straight through her. Aridhel could feel her back automatically tense up as Keeper Lanira disappeared out of her line of sight, waiting for something to happen. Something always happened. But Marin was still there, leaning on the side of one of the aravels so maybe...but no, what if he was just there to put her off-guard? Aridhel could feel her heartbeat growing quicker the longer the Keeper was out of sight. What was she doing? Had she gone? Or was she just waiting for Aridhel to mess up? She could feel her magic flickering. No—Fen’harel curse her she couldn’t let this happen! She kept the flame steady, just as the Keeper stalked back into sight. Aridhel kept breathing.

Keeper Lanira continued to circle her, around and around, like a predator watching its prey. But she wasn’t prey anymore. She could do this. She repeated the mantra over and over in her head, even though her heartbeat quickened every time Keeper Lanira left her line of sight. She could do this. She could do this. She could do this. It seemed like at least another two hours until the Keeper finally stopped just in front of her. Aridhel hardly dared to breathe, but she did, keeping the flame burning in the palm of her hand.

The Keeper leant down over her, and Aridhel could smell her decaying breath again, just like when she was a child. Then she reached out one claw-like hand, and, with her pale, bony fingers, grabbed the flame in Aridhel’s palm, extinguishing it. Aridhel flinched away from her, then looked up at her face. There was that terrible, terrible smile once more. Leering down at her. Like something straight out of her childhood nightmares. She suppressed a shudder as Keeper Lanira withdrew once more.

“Well done, Aridhel, you maintained the flame...for a time,” said Keeper Lanira, looking blankly into the distance. “Though there were still flickers. We will practise again tomorrow.”

Aridhel felt an immense ache in her spine. Nervous tension, probably. She didn’t know if she could do this again tomorrow. The Keeper didn’t seem to notice Aridhel’s apprehension though, because she began sweeping away again, though not before adding one last thing:

“Also, you’re late for your hunting lesson with Khin. Tell him I kept you behind because you weren’t producing a sufficient flame.”

Aridhel suppressed the urge to growl. Typical.

She began to rise from where she’d been sitting on the floor, but quickly found she had to sit back down again. Her muscles were locked in place from having sat in the same position for so long, and her energy was almost completely drained by maintaining her magic for so long. Hunting was going to be agonising, and Keeper Lanira knew it. Aridhel felt an overwhelming hatred burning through her bones. One day. One day she’d be able to leave this place the Creators forgot. Maybe next Arlathvhen. Maybe longer. But _one day_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, another chapter. Keeper Lanira's training is of the standard kind, but far longer and more excruciating. She doesn't have any particular desire to train Aridhel as an apprentice, but doesn't want her accidentally setting her on fire either, so she sticks mostly to endurance challenges like this to keep Aridhel unhappy and exhausted. Aridhel won't lose control of her magic any time soon, but at a fairly hefty cost, considering what she has to give Keeper Lanira in return for these lessons anyway.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who decided to read, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if so, feel free to let me know!


	6. The Curse

It was nearing nightfall in the camp, and Aridhel was still sitting with the training dummies on the edge of the camp, polishing her hunting bow while everyone else got the evening meal from the Hearthmistress. Her stomach growled in protest, but she stayed put. This was the newest torment she had to face from the rest of the Clan. They’d never exactly _liked_ her—Mother had made sure of that. But this complete isolation was new.

It was something to do with the rumour Daravhel had started—that both she and her mother were cursed somehow. Aridhel had no idea how the idiot had managed to sell anyone else on the story, but it had caught on quickly with the other children in the Clan, and then, to Aridhel’s surprise, the adults as well. Even though the adults in the Clan were at best useless, she’d never thought they were _stupid_. But there was no other explanation for why they’d taken on this fabrication so quickly. Unless they all just hated her so much they didn’t care. That was an option too.

She continued to irritably scrub her bow as she thought about this, not even noticing she was scratching her hands in the process. It was only when her palms felt wet that she looked down and noticed that she’d cut one of her fingers.

“Elgar’nan strike me down!” she hissed, and put her finger in her mouth, hoping the bleeding wasn’t too bad.

She took it out again to examine it. She’d need some kind of covering for it, at least until it stopped bleeding. That would mean heading back into camp. Damn it.

She crept back into camp as stealthily as she could, glad that her excessive hunting lessons had at least been good for _something_. She remained out of sight as she crept past several campfires, resisting the urge to steal some food for herself. She was so hungry. She hadn’t eaten since early that morning. But she would have to wait—she could always get Mother to give her some later.

Eventually she reached Marin’s tent. He was First to the Clan but also their healer whenever Pirva, their head healer, was too busy. And she was very busy after their latest hunt. Marin was also the most likely to have bandages in his tent. Anyone could take them, so she probably wouldn’t get in trouble. Probably. Just as she reached the opening to the tent, however, someone grabbed her by the back of her shirt. Marin glared down at her.

“What do you think you’re doing, Aridhel?” he asked, in that irritating, superior-sounding voice he always used.

“I need to bind this,” said Aridhel, shoving her finger in his face.

“Ugh!” said Marin, recoiling as she nearly poked him in the eye. “Yes, I see. I will get a bandage. You wait outside.”

“I can go and get a bandage myself!” said Aridhel, offended by his lack of faith.

“You can, but what will the rest of the Clan say if they know their bandages have been tainted by your hands, hmm?” he said, then disappeared into the tent before she could reply.

Aridhel fumed silently. Tainted? She wasn’t poisonous! Not that saying so would convince anybody. This might be the worst thing Daravhel had ever done to her, and that was saying something. It seemed like only Mother and Keeper Lanira would tolerate her now, and there were few things in Thedas that were worse than that.

Marin quickly emerged from the tent once more.

“Here, a bandage for your finger,” he said, curtly handing her a small strip of white cloth.

“Do you seriously believe I’m ‘cursed’ Marin?” asked Aridhel, hoping to provoke him. “I thought you might have _some_ intelligence, what with being First and all, but clearly I was wrong.”

Marin glowered down at her.

“You are a child,” he sniffed. “You don’t know anything. And no, I do not believe you are ‘cursed’, but the Clan _does_ , and I must account for their fears.”

“Even if they’re stupid?” asked Aridhel, irritably wrapping the cloth around her finger.

“They’re not stupid,” said Marin, glaring as he sat down next to the fire. “They have excellent reason to believe as much, what with your grandmother… Even if I, personally, don’t think you’ve caused us any undue bad luck. Only undue trouble.”

“What happened to my grandmother?” asked Aridhel, though she was loathe to ask Marin.

“Don’t you know?” he scoffed, and Aridhel repressed the urge to punch the smug smile right off his face.

“The hahren haven’t really been speaking to me lately—they seem to think I’m  _cursed_ or something,” she snarled, and Marin rolled his eyes.

“Fine, since you’re so woefully uneducated about your past, I suppose it’s _my_  job to teach you,” he said, sneering.

Aridhel would have snapped at him, but even hearing the story from _Marin_ was better than not hearing it at all, so she remained silent.

“A little more than twenty years ago, your grandmother was found on the outskirts of the camp by one of our senior hunters,” he said, settling into the story. “She was very ill—she had wandered through the forest in the middle of a storm, eventually finding our camp, drawn towards the light of our campfires. Her skin was burning to the touch, and she was delirious, unable to understand what any of us were saying, instead just raving about her ‘sins’ or something along those lines.”

Marin shook his head at this juncture, and if she didn’t know better Aridhel would almost think he felt sorry for the woman.

“In any case, it was clear something terrible had happened to her. Her clothes were covered in blood, some of it hers, and we assumed her Clan had been attacked. We thought that might be what had driven her to the state she was in.”

“Did she never tell you?” asked Aridhel.

“Shut up and listen!” snapped Marin. “Anyway, there was something else contributing to her ill health. She was heavily pregnant with your mother: close to giving birth in fact. We’d barely moved her out of the cold when she began to go into labour. All the while she was ranting and screaming—she wanted us to kill her, and her child. She insisted that the both of them were cursed, and that her staying here would only bring bad luck to the Clan.”

“I see...” mumbled Aridhel, the behaviour of the adults in the Clan quickly falling into place. They’d been there when Mother was born, or heard stories about it. They believed what her grandmother had said back then.

“Perhaps,” said Marin, glancing down at her, before continuing with the story. “We ignored her, of course. We assumed that whatever happened to her Clan had broken her mind in some way. It was sad, of course, but not unexpected. These things often happen to people who undergo terrible experiences like she did. The child was delivered safely, but your grandmother was very sick, and died not long after having her. She kept on insisting the baby had to die, right up until the end. I suppose she realised she wasn’t going to make it. Tragic, really.”

Aridhel scowled. All of this—all because her stupid grandmother lost her mind before she died. The words of the dead should be treated just like their bodies—forgotten, not used to plague their children. Somewhere deep inside she felt sorry for the woman, but her heart was too full of rage at her legacy to care much about that just now. She glared at Marin. And he thought that was justification, did he?

“I bet you regret not listening to her now, huh?” spat Aridhel, remembering what Keeper Lanira had said to her when she was younger.

Marin raised his eyebrows.

“Well, I suppose some of the more vocal members of the Clan…” he said, trailing off as Aridhel continued to glare.

“Yes or no, Marin? Do you regret it?”

“The situation with your mother is...complicated, da’len,” he said, trying to soothe her.

“You don’t care at all about Mother! None of you do! You practically spit on her as she walks by!” hissed Aridhel, infuriated by his hypocrisy.

“As though you’re any better!” he snarled, finally breaking his veneer of snide supremacy. “I know you tell Keeper Lanira whatever she wants to know about Mireth, just so she can teach you magic. You don’t care about her any more than the rest of us, you just pretend you do so you can feel better about ratting out your own mother!”

“Shut the fuck up Marin!” growled Aridhel, flames already licking her palms as she got ready to light him on fire for his words.

“What do you think you’re doing, girl?”

Keeper Lanira’s voice seemed to slide over the campfire like a sheet of ice. Aridhel instinctively extinguished her flames. Keeper Lanira seemed to carry a chill wind with her at all times, and now was no exception. She swept over to Aridhel and bent down to whisper in her ear, her breath warm on Aridhel’s face.

“If I see those flames outside our lessons again girl, you’ll wish you were never born,” she said, and Aridhel tried not to shudder as she leant away once more. The worst part was she knew the Keeper meant it.

“Marin, please try not to provoke her,” said Keeper Lanira, now addressing Marin, who at least had the decency to look bashful. “You know Aridhel has difficulty...controlling herself. Now back to your tents, both of you.”

“Yes, Keeper,” said both Aridhel and Marin in unison.

Aridhel crept away as quickly as possible, not wanting the Keeper to get her alone. Bad things happened when they were alone. Worse than usual anyway. Keeper Lanira had to at least pretend to be reasonable in front of the Clan. She had no such qualms when she was with Aridhel. Aridhel was back to her tent, and in the tenuously beneficial company of Mother within minutes. Mother was already asleep. Sylaise had smiled her that evening. At least she didn’t have to worry about being kept awake by sobbing or ranting. Not that that stopped a pained, anguished face from haunting her nightmares, screaming to kill the baby.

She didn’t sleep long that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a particularly fun chapter to write! Introducing Marin, First to Clan Mahariel and insufferable jackass. The story of Aridhel's lineage really is one of tragedy and history horribly repeating itself. Not to mention the cycle of abuse, what with what happened to her mother. The cycle will be broken eventually, I promise! But until then, poor Aridhel will continue to suffer.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who decided to read, and I hope you enjoyed this new chapter. If so, let me know!


	7. The Plan

It was around midday, and Aridhel had caught several rabbits in her hunting that morning. She would take them back to the Clan to be skinned and cooked, then served to everyone except her. Irony at its finest. There was some small part of her, that she didn’t often let rise to the surface, that told her she should just drop the rabbits and run—run as far from the Clan as possible, and never look back. It was a foolish thought—shems would certainly catch her before she got too far, and probably drag her off to a Circle the moment she used her magic. That was no life. Neither was life in the Clan, really, but she had a plan. A better plan.

She liked to consider her plan in lonely moments like these, it helped take her mind off...well. Everything else. Reminded her she still had _something_. Something to live for. Something to strive for. It would be ten years until the next Arlathvhen—and Clan Mahariel would _have_ to attend because it sent a messenger instead to the one this year. Then she would go to every Clan in attendance and see if they had need of a mage. There were fewer mages with each passing year, and Aridhel knew her gifts would be valued. Then she would transfer to another Clan, and it wouldn’t matter what Mother or Keeper Lanira said, because the decision was made collectively. Then she would be free.

And if there weren’t any Clans without mages...well, there  _would_ be. If she was there. She had to escape. The cost didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she needed to _get out_. Ten years was a long time, but she could wait. She  _would_ leave. And no one could stop her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very short chapter, but I wanted to write about Aridhel's plan to escape the Clan before the 'main plot' kicks off. She's really beginning to become ruthless because of the pain the Clan has inflicted on her, and that's beginning to bleed through into how she sees the world and the opportunities within. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who decided to read, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and if so, let me know!


	8. Breaking Point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To anyone reading this, consider this your forewarning that a lot of those warning tags up there? Are because of this chapter, so yeah, stay safe. Things are about to get dark.

Mother was sitting in the corner of their tent, brushing her long hair in an aggravated manner. She’d been more irritable than usual recently. It was just as well, because Aridhel had been less inclined to deal with her lately as well, so Mother’s passive-aggressive silence suited her just fine. Aridhel was sitting in her corner pouring over another scroll that she’d stolen, much to the Keeper’s disgust, when suddenly, after fiercely pulling at a knot in her hair for around five minutes, Mother broke down crying. Aridhel’s first instinct was to roll her eyes and sit outside the tent for the rest of the night, ignoring this latest bout of hysteria, but something stopped her. Mother had been very...on-edge lately and it had occurred to Aridhel that it might be something to do with _him._

Aridhel still hated him with all her heart and soul, but it was possible he’d...broken it off with Mother. At long last. That was only a vague dream though. Aridhel suspected that if he ever did break it off with Mother, she just wouldn’t come back to camp at all. Her life seemed to revolve around him. Sometimes she thought it was almost sad. Sometimes.

Aridhel slowly rose from her seat and went over to peer at her mother. She was...oblivious to Aridhel’s presence, which was good, since Aridhel had no idea what to do to try and calm her down. Usually she tried to ignore it when Mother went off like this, and it would die down eventually. Something was different this time though. Usually when Mother cried over something or other, it was due to anger or guilt or something else equally pointless. This time though...this time she seemed afraid. Aridhel frowned. Mother was many things, but afraid wasn’t usually one of them.

Finally, she seemed to notice Aridhel’s presence and reached out to grasp her arms. Aridhel automatically flinched away. They always grabbed her by the arms. It was usually Keeper Lanira doing the grabbing, but Mother did her fair share as well and it never ended well. Not for Aridhel, anyway. Mother noticed this and just let her hands drop to her sides, as though deflated somehow.

“Is something...wrong?” asked Aridhel, and it felt strange saying it.

Obviously there was something wrong. There was _always_ something wrong. Aridhel honestly couldn’t remember a time when she and Mother had been completely at peace with each other and the Clan. Not even when she was still small. It was always something. Even some of her earliest memories had Keeper Lanira lurking in the background, just as terrifying as she was now. Mother had been frightened back then _,_ too. Sometimes Aridhel thought about when she was alone with Keeper Lanira, and the things she said and did, and remembered she’d once been told Mother was _raised_ by Keeper Lanira. The thought tended to make her insides feel strange, so she usually ignored it, but right now it was at the forefront of her mind, and she couldn’t quite push it away.

Mother looked up at her with wide, bloodshot eyes.

“Yes,” she whispered. This might be the first actual conversation they’d had in years. “Aridhel...you can help me...can’t you?”

“I don’t know,” said Aridhel, frowning. This wasn’t like Mother. Something was very wrong. “What’s the problem?”

“I’m—” Mother began, but then cut herself off, as if the words were too painful. “I’m...going to have a baby.”

Aridhel actually felt her heart stop beating for a good two seconds after her mother said those words.

“ _What?_ ” she whispered, unable to get her voice any louder, terrified of someone hearing.

Mother just nodded tearfully.

This was not happening. This was _not_ happening! She couldn’t have a _sibling!_ The Clan had all but killed her for her birthright, and she knew for a fact Mother wasn’t going to take care of this baby any more than she had when Aridhel was born. She would not let another live through what she had lived through. This baby would not suffer as she had suffered. Something had to be done.

“I’m telling the Keeper,” said Aridhel, the words out of her mouth before she could even process them.

What else could she do? _Hide_ it from Keeper Lanira? Tell her that this baby, when it was born, had simply been dropped at the edge of their tent during the night? The Keeper would kill them. Possibly literally. But Mother’s face changed as she said this. While tears were still pouring from her eyes, she now looked angry—furious even, and, for the first time in her life, Aridhel felt...afraid, of her mother. It was approximately a second after this revelation that Mother leapt towards her, with a speed she would previously have thought her incapable of.

Mother didn’t grab her arms this time.

Aridhel felt powerful hands closing around her neck, strong fingers pressing against her airways, and she scarcely was scarcely able to reach up and try to claw Mother’s hands away before she found herself unable to breathe, as pressure was applied to her neck.

“ _No_ ,” said Mother, practically snarling at her. “You will _not_ take this away from me. I’m sick and tired of you betraying me to that harpy, now you will _do as you’re told_ or I swear I will end you.”

Aridhel tried to choke back a reply, but Mother only squeezed harder.

“Can’t you see?” she asked, her voice trembling wildly. “This is my last chance at happiness. I can’t let this go. This is my last chance...swear to me Aridhel. Swear you’ll help me.”

Aridhel desperately clawed at her mother’s arms, trying to fight for air as she felt her consciousness begin to slip away. Her lungs were burning. Her vision was going black...then the pressure was released. Aridhel collapsed to the ground, gasping, taking in great lungfuls of air as she fought to remain conscious. Mother was standing over her, waiting for an answer. She had no other choice.

“I’ll help,” she croaked, her voice not quite back yet. “I’ll help you.”

Mother smiled. Aridhel couldn’t remember the last time Mother had smiled at her.

“I knew you’d understand,” she said, reaching down and brushing the hair from Aridhel’s face as she lay on the ground, still trying to get her breathing back under control. “You’ve always understood these things.”

Aridhel tried vainly not to cry, but tears were rolling down her cheeks. She had only been a child when Mother had begun treating her as a confidant. Telling her about _him_ , about Keeper Lanira, about everything. Aridhel didn’t remember much, but she remembered Mother growing angrier and angrier as she didn’t respond, infuriated she didn’t seem to understand. She felt like that now. A tiny child, at the mercy of this woman who seemed to think she was the answer to all her problems. But she wasn’t. She didn’t understand. She never had. She doubted she ever would. How had this happened?

“We’ll talk in the morning,” said Mother, wiping the tears from her eyes, like a mother should. “You should get some sleep until then.”

Then Mother put her hands underneath her, and lifted her into the air, like she was a child again, and began carrying her over to her corner. Aridhel didn’t dare move. She wanted to scream, Mother wasn’t allowed into her corner, it was _safe_. It was supposed to be safe… But nothing happened as Mother crossed that tiny line inside their tent, nothing happened as she dropped Aridhel onto her bedroll and turned around. She could still feel tears falling down her cheeks. She was shaking violently. The last safe space. Shattered. Gone. Now she was trapped in this tent with Mother only a few feet away from her. Nowhere was safe anymore.

She did not sleep that night.


	9. Mother's Plan

Aridhel was sitting and waiting when Mother woke up; she didn’t dare read through her scrolls she’d taken, she didn’t dare move too quickly while Mother was conscious. She was afraid. She’d never been this afraid of Mother before, not even when she was a child. Always, in her mind, Keeper Lanira had been the one to be feared, while Mother was pitiable at best. But that had all changed last night. Now she was terrified, terrified for her very life. Mother said she had a plan...if it was anything like the plans she got Aridhel to go along with when she was little, then it would be useless at best. Still, what other choice did she have? There was no way out. No escape.

It didn’t take long for Mother to wake that morning. Luckily, Aridhel was left mostly on her own now, so no one would come looking if she didn’t emerge from the tent. Was that lucky? If Mother had actually gone through with it...no, she couldn’t think of that, though her hands were shaking. Mother seemed to be more...awake than usual, at any rate. To Aridhel she always seemed to be either floating in some fantasy or weeping on the floor. How she ever managed to hunt her share for the Clan while in those states Aridhel had no idea, but she did, or the Keeper would have banished her by now. Perhaps she was more like this in those times.

Though she still seemed to be in a state of some disarray, her eyes were sharp, and she seemed to actually understand what she was doing for once. She noticed Aridhel very quickly, immediately perking up once she caught sight of her. Something in the back of Aridhel’s mind told her she needed to run. But she didn’t.

“Aridhel,” said Mother, beckoning her over, “come sit. You need to hear my plan.”

Aridhel rose from her corner of the room and came over to sit by Mother without a word. She didn’t know what would happen if she argued. Mother had never hurt her before. Everything seemed somehow out of place—like the world had been knocked onto its edge. So she just sat, in silence. Mother didn’t seem to notice her melancholy though, so that was one good thing at least.

“We need to go to Clan Sabrae; that’s Aradin’s Clan, they can help protect us,” she said, looking at Aridhel for some response.

Aridhel didn’t know what to say, she could simply sit in silence, but that would only anger Mother. What wouldn’t anger her though? She didn’t know. She didn’t know anything. Her ears were buzzing. She needed to say something.

“But why do they want us now?” asked Aridhel, knowing that if Mother could possibly gone off to live with Aradin before she certainly would have.

“Oh Aridhel,” said Mother, smiling and shaking her head, “that was because the elders don’t approve of our union, but even _they_ won’t refuse if they know about this baby!”

Aridhel just frowned. That didn’t make sense, after all, it wasn’t as though this was the first time this had happened. Her existence proved that.

“But, we’re still here,” she said, wondering if her estimation of Mother’s senses had been incorrect.

“Oh, yes, that’s true,” said Mother, frowning, as though she hadn’t considered it before. “But Aridhel, da’len, you don’t understand—if Keeper Lanira finds out about this baby, she’ll kill it.”

Aridhel opened her mouth to say something, but found nothing would come out. Mother might be right. After all, that’s precisely what she herself had thought mere minutes before... _it_ happened Her sibling might die...she couldn’t let that happen, even if Mother _was_ forcing her to do this. They needed some way out of the Clan.

“So, you’ll tell... _him_ she’ll kill the baby? He’ll agree to take you back to his Clan?” asked Aridhel, scarcely able to believe it.

She’d never considered _his_ Clan while thinking of ways to escape. In a way, she’d never thought he had a Clan at all...they’d have to stay terribly nearby for Mother to be able to visit like she did. Or perhaps that was why she sometimes disappeared for so long—she needed to actually _get_ to him. Aridhel’s head hurt thinking about it. A shame he didn’t care enough about her to actually let Mother stay with him before.

“Yes, that’s right,” said Mother, brushing off her concerns like they were irritating flies. “I’m certain he’ll agree. There’s no way he wouldn’t…”

“How long...until…” Aridhel didn’t really know how to ask directly how much time they had until this baby was born. After all, it would start to show fairly soon, and from then there would be a countdown over their heads.  

“Not long,” said Mother with a frown. “A few months, perhaps, possibly fewer. You were born very early Aridhel, you’re lucky to have survived. This child may be the same.”

Aridhel had to blink a few times—was Mother actually making sense for once? Aridhel knew Mother was very young when she had her, so the fact she remembered at all was somewhat unbelievable. Especially since Pirva had had to knock her unconscious.

“So when are you next meeting with him?” asked Aridhel, almost dreading the answer.

“Two months time, we have until then to prepare,” said Mother, and Aridhel was surprised she knew so precisely.

Then again, the reason she didn’t seem to care about anything else was because her life revolved around _him,_ so it probably made sense that she would know exactly what was going on in that regard. Mother seemed to have been able to conceal the symptoms of pregnancy until now, so she’d trust that she’d be able to continue to do so. She didn’t _want_ to have to trust the task to Mother, but she had little other choice given the circumstances. But then...there were two months left. Two months of just...waiting. This was going to be bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another fun chapter! Aridhel is really feeling the effects of her mother's abuse in this one, her entire life has been turned upside down. It does eventually end up better, but there's a high cost before that day comes. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who decided to read, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if so, let me know!


	10. Humans Nearby

It was two weeks until they planned to leave. Only two weeks left...it seemed like such a short amount of time. The past month had seemed so long in comparison Aridhel felt almost ill at ease knowing they would be leaving soon. Even though it was all she’d wanted for so many years, it felt...wrong somehow. Maybe it was the fact she’d be leaving with Mother. Whenever she planned to escape the Clan, Mother would always get left behind, especially after  _ that _ night. The idea of moving to a new Clan, but still having Mother by her side, still able to torment her even after Keeper Lanira was gone...in some ways, she wouldn’t have escaped at all. 

Aridhel had become more withdrawn, after that night. Though she had never interacted much with the Clan anyway, she found herself on the sidelines more and more often, unable and unwilling to interact with the other children. Most of them wouldn’t talk to her anyway because of the ‘curse’ but even then, it was nice to imagine some of them might care. Even if she knew they didn’t. 

Everything had been uprooted in that one moment. Her nightmares had gotten worse. Much worse. And she had found herself, more often than not, simply creeping around the camp, hoping not to be seen. That was where she was right now, sitting atop a tree, leaning over one of the aravels, looking vacantly down at the Clan below. Would there be any difference if she and Mother left? Probably not. Everything would go on as usual. They’d just have two fewer people to spit at. 

Aridhel’s thoughts came to a stuttering stop, however, when she noticed who was now walking below her. Keeper Lanira swept through the camp below her, and though Aridhel knew there was no way the Keeper could hear or see her, she froze in place, terrified she might be noticed. Thankfully the Keeper seemed distracted by something, so Aridhel remained safely hidden in the trees. She appeared to be talking to someone—Marin, he was standing just beside her, and they both seemed quite aggravated. Aridhel was glad she hadn’t been spotted. If she listened closely she could just about hear what they were saying. 

“They’re too close boy, we need to move camp!” grumbled Keeper Lanira, pacing back and forth. 

“But Keeper, we gain nothing by moving so soon, the children—”

“Bah, what do they know? We won’t have to worry about the children at all if they’re slaughtered by shems!” 

“The shems might not even know we’re here yet!” said Marin, clearly quite troubled by this turn of events. “Please Keeper, just give it a week or so more, then we’ll have enough food stored to travel safely.”

Keeper Lanira stopped pacing and sighed deeply. 

“If this goes poorly, I’ll know who to blame Marin,” she said, staring down at him. “We’ll stay one more week. That’s all.”

“Thank you, Keeper,” said Marin, bowing slightly. Keeper Lanira just glared at him. Aridhel didn’t dare make a move. 

Fortunately it wasn’t long before the two disappeared out of her sight, attending to their other duties. Aridhel breathed a sigh of relief. 

So, there were humans camped nearby it seemed. That could be trouble, though from what Keeper Lanira had said, they’d have moved by then. Still, it might be in her best interests to warn Mother, even if she was hesitant to return to their tent.

Aridhel quickly clambered down from the tree and began to sneak back to the tent. She was almost unnerved by how...afraid she was of being seen by one of the clan members. Had she always been this fearful? She was sure she wasn’t, but her head was all a mess, and she found it hard to recall, hard to focus on anything but the present. She’d had plenty of new bruises on her arms from Keeper Lanira as a result. Having to focus on the present at all times was not very conducive to study, and it showed during her magic lessons. Just because she was more afraid of Mother now didn’t mean Keeper Lanira was any less terrifying, it was just that now she had a new terror to deal with as well. 

It didn’t take Aridhel long to get back to the tent, with Mother waiting inside. Aridhel had always felt apprehension on entering; when she was younger she’d almost been knocked out by a bowl Mother had thrown at her head as she entered. This was a different kind of fear though. She wasn’t afraid of a projectile that might come whizzing past her face, or that once she entered she wouldn’t be able to sleep because of Mother’s weeping. Both those things might happen, but now Mother wielded a far more powerful weapon, and the fact she might use it at any time terrified Aridhel beyond measure. She could only hope that Mother would take the news well. 

Mother was plaiting her long hair as Aridhel entered, and for once didn’t seem too angry when she appeared. That was one small thing amidst all this terror. Mother’s general mood seemed to have been improved by the fact she now knew Aridhel wouldn’t betray her. It didn’t take away from the awful situation, but it did somewhat lessen Aridhel’s difficulty with getting to sleep. Of course, it had resulted in new, more horrifying nightmares, so there was always a trade-off somewhere. 

“What is it, Aridhel?” asked Mother, turning towards her. 

Oh yes, and actual conversations. They were new as well. 

“I just overheard Keeper Lanira and Marin,” said Aridhel, frowning. “They’re worried about humans camped nearby. We’ll have to be careful not to run into them when we leave.” 

“Oh Aridhel, da’len, you worry too much,” said Mother, smiling. And that was the downside of this new, improved mood—Mother seemed to think that nothing in the world could stop their plan from going wrong. “I’ll deal with the shems if we run into them, don’t you worry about that.”

“Right,” said Aridhel, with a sigh. 

Then chill of pure terror shot down her spine. What if that made Mother angry? She was already cringing back as she went to look over at Mother, but she wasn’t preparing to attack, or even paying attention to Aridhel at all. Instead she’d gone back to plaiting her hair, and was now humming a tune, oblivious to the world around her. Aridhel wanted to unclench her muscles, but found she couldn’t. She was far too tense for that. She just didn’t know what to do around Mother anymore. Before it had been safe. She’d known precisely what Mother would do in almost every situation. But now...now it was different. There was this deep, unspeakable divide that sat between them. 

‘You almost killed me.’

In and of itself, Aridhel could deal with it. The bruises around her neck had just about faded, and there had been no lasting damage to her throat. But the memory seemed to just sit in her mind, never fading, never becoming any less vivid. And the knowledge that it might happen again, at any time, with any provocation, was impossibly terrifying. And Mother had entered her corner. Aridhel still didn’t feel safe sitting there anymore. Instead she’d taken to sitting outside, hidden away in the trees, where no one could reach her. 

She was tired now though. She found she was tired more and more often recently. She wanted to sleep, even though it was always difficult with Mother in the room. Not to mention it was almost mid-day. But something inside her had been drained away, and she couldn’t tell if it was her energy or something else entirely. All she knew was that she needed to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray, it's foreshadowing time! And in other news; Keeper Lanira is awful to everyone. She's just more subtle about it when it isn't Mireth or Aridhel. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who decided to read, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if so, please let me know!


	11. No Way Back

One more day. That’s all she had left. One more day until Clan Mahariel would be designated to the realms of memory, and she would never have to think about them again. Or at least, so Mother said. Aridhel hated her unshakable faith in _him_ and hated even more the fact she couldn’t say anything about it without risk of sudden and violent reprisal. But what she hated most was that now _she_ had to have faith in him too. If she didn’t then both she and Mother might end up dead. He had better pull through this time because if he didn’t, Aridhel was going to take off his head, Clan and Mother be damned.

But there would be time to think about that later. For now, she had to focus on the task at hand. Aridhel had few possessions to take with her to this new Clan, only a few small things she’d made for herself when she was younger, and her precious bow. But there was one other thing she wanted to take with her. Something she probably shouldn’t. But it would be her last chance to get it. Ever since she first started taking magic lessons from Keeper Lanira, Aridhel had had a particular fascination with the scrolls that detailed the magical rituals. Keeper Lanira couldn’t read them anymore, so they were of little use to her, so Aridhel had had no qualms about taking them back to her tent to be read in her own time. The Keeper had initially been furious about her scrolls going missing, but they were always returned eventually, and she had no idea Aridhel was the one doing the stealing, so everything had been fine. For a time.

She wanted to take one of the scrolls with her on her journey though—the first one she had taken—the one about how to control your dreams in the Fade. Aridhel had long since mastered the skill, but the scroll meant something more than that. It had been the first time she’d disobeyed the rules, the first time she’d realised she could do things for herself and not be punished. It was a symbol of what all this meant. So she had to bring it with her.

And that was where she sat, just outside the tent, looking in from the outside, checking no one else was about to see her sneak inside. She’d done this a hundred times before, but every time was different, so she did the checks regardless. Everything seemed fine. It was late in the afternoon, so Keeper Lanira would be monitoring the Hearthmistress in preparation of the evening meal. Marin would be assisting Pirva in the healing tent, and no one else would have any reason to visit Keeper Lanira. Aridhel took one more quick look around, just to make sure no one saw her getting in, before entering the tent.

Even though she’d been into Keeper Lanira’s tent many times, Aridhel could never get used to it. It was dark, lit only by magical lights in each corner of the tent, which seemed to do nothing to actually cast any light inside. There was always the harsh scent of rotting meat, which Aridhel could never seem to sense the source of, as well as the heady scent of various oils used in some of the old magic rituals which only the Keeper and the First knew. Keeper Lanira kept her scrolls piled high in the corner of her tent, next to a large stack of books which Aridhel definitely couldn’t have gotten away with stealing.

Aridhel crept over to them, careful not to make a sound, as she gently coaxed the one she knew to be the one on sleeping in the Fade out from under about six scrolls on top. She knew because she could just about make out the waxy stain on its top right corner, that she’d seen Keeper Lanira make when she was much younger. She had just gotten the scroll free however, and was planning to get out of the tent and sprint back to Mother’s to get this over as quickly as possible, when she turned around.  

A huge, dark figure was towering over her.

Aridhel jumped backwards, falling into the stack of books as her heart skipped several beats at the sight of Keeper Lanira glowering down at her. This was bad. This was very, very bad. She was blocking the exit of the tent.

“So, it _was_ you,” said Keeper Lanira, bending down to look over her like some gigantic vulture, smiling with her mouth but not her eyes. “I should have known. You’ve been nothing but trouble your whole miserable life, but I extend to you the courtesy of teaching you magic, and _this_ is how you repay me?”

That terrible smile was still plastered over her face, but Aridhel felt a deep and indefinable dread. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see whatever happened next. She felt a massive force come flying into the side of her face, sending her careening into the ground with enough force to leave her dazed for several seconds. When the world came back into focus, Aridhel noticed, in addition to feeling like a thousand wasps had stung her, her cheek was intensely sore. She put a hand up to feel it, and found it was wet. She was bleeding. She looked dazedly up at the Keeper who had turned her attention away from her for a second to organise her books. There was a ring on the Keeper’s finger, now stained a dark red. It must have cut her when the Keeper slapped her.

She’d moved away from the exit though, and Aridhel still had the scroll in her hands. She had to go. Now.

Aridhel was sprinting out of the tent before she knew what she was doing. She could felt an intense chill at her back as the Keeper noticed her moving and cast a spell at her back, missing her by mere inches. Aridhel kept running.

“I’ll _find_ you, girl!” Aridhel could hear the Keeper screaming from behind her. “And when I do there _will_ be consequences!”

Aridhel didn’t bother looking behind her, she just ran, and kept on running into she came sliding to a stop, right through the entrance to Mother’s tent. Mother was gathering her things in preparation. She looked up at Aridhel and was about to say something, but Aridhel cut her off.

“We need to go. Now. Right now,” she said, still panting wildly after running so quickly.

“Your face—” said Mother, but Aridhel was already on the floor helping her pack up her things.

“We’re leaving. She’ll kill me. Kill both of us. We need to go,” she said, frantically bundling everything up into the travel bag and then leaping over towards her own things.

“She found out then? Aridhel, please—”

“No time. Go go go, we need to go,” she said, slinging her bag over her shoulder and already heading towards the exit of the tent.

“All right, all right,” said Mother, putting her hands up and putting her bag over her shoulder like Aridhel. “Perhaps it’s for the best that we leave tonight…”

“Yeah, now let’s _go_ ,” said Aridhel, beginning to exit the tent again, looking around to make sure Keeper Lanira hadn’t somehow managed to follow her.

Mother wasn’t far behind her, and Aridhel made a beeline for the nearest set of trees, Mother’s voice guiding her at her back. It was already beginning to get dark out, but as Aridhel looked back at the camp, at the fires blazing in the darkness, she found herself, for the second time in as many months, having her disdain turn hollow and dry in her stomach as it transformed into something else. Fear. They were on the run now. On the run from the only home she’d ever had. It was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aridhel's finally leaving Clan Mahariel! Unfortunately it's a lot more tense than it might otherwise have been. Keeper Lanira might be one of the most terrifying characters I've created. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who decided to read, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and if so, let me know!


	12. The Final Meeting

It had been a long, difficult trek through the night to reach the clearing where Mother said they needed to wait for _him_. Aridhel had busied herself during the day by going hunting for something they could eat while they waited. They’d left a day earlier than they’d meant to, so they’d have to wait until nightfall again until he appeared. Mother had been quiet, for once, so Aridhel found she had only her thoughts for company.

Was this really the right thing to be doing? She’d never known anything but Clan Mahariel, and while she scarcely wanted to believe anything could be worse than what she lived through with them, she still couldn’t see herself anywhere else. What would _his_ Clan even be like? What would _he_ be like? Aradin—that was his name. Mother had told her she ought to use it, but that felt to Aridhel to be almost like giving in, somehow. Acknowledging that _he_ truly existed. Of course, she knew he did, but she’d never seen him before, and for all her childhood, she felt almost as though he was a vengeful ghost, haunting both her and her mother for all of eternity.

She didn’t _want_ to meet him. She didn’t want to get to know this man who’d thought she wasn’t worth looking after, wasn’t worth being a parent to. And, despite the fact her life probably depended on it, she didn’t want him to change his mind for this new sibling of hers when Mother told him. She wanted him to be just as cruel as she’d always imagined him to be—how else could she justify hating him so much, even though they’d only just met? But that would have to wait. For now they had more pressing concerns, like not being eaten by wolves.

Mother had helped her to set up wards around the camp, but warned her they would need to come down when Aradin turned up, so they would need to be on their guard. Night was beginning to set in once more. Aridhel watched as the sky turned from orange to blue, then darker blue, and then stars began to emerge before it finally turned black. Now they just had to wait. Aridhel’s muscles were tensed. She still didn’t like being alone with Mother. She seemed happier now, but at what cost? Aridhel would certainly never trust her again, and if she was still living in the same Clan as her, would she ever truly be free? She didn’t know, and was still considering the question, even as Mother gave her the signal to lower the wards.

Aridhel felt a prickling sensation on the back of her neck as she did so, like someone was watching her. Someone who wasn’t Mother. She remembered overhearing Keeper Lanira several weeks ago. There had been humans camped nearby. They’d moved since then, but still...something itched at the back of her brain.

She was distracted from thinking over this however, as Mother came over to her, and to Aridhel’s terror, lifted her to her feet. She stood stock still, wondering whether Mother was about to have another fit. But nothing happened, and instead Mother leaned over to her, excited, and said:

“He’s here!”

Aridhel looked around, and, sure enough, a figure was emerging from the trees. Aridhel’s hand went instinctively to the dagger in her belt at the sight of him, and she kept it there, even as the figure’s identity became clear. Walking out of the forest was an elven man of average height, with short brown hair and light blue eyes. He was dressed in a robe, not dissimilar to the one Keeper Lanira wore, albeit a little less terrifying. He smiled as he saw Mother.

Mother went rushing over to him, hugging him tightly the moment he did. He laughed and hugged her back, and Aridhel frowned. Mother seemed...happy. Aridhel had seen her happy several times before, though it never really bode well for her—particularly since Mother being happy usually meant she was even more likely than usual to simply ignore the fact Aridhel existed at all. Aridhel always felt particularly isolated and alone when it happened. She had the same feeling now. That somehow, she was a stranger looking in on two people she’d never seen before. These were her parents—but they also weren’t. She didn’t know what to do.

“Aridhel, come over here,” said Mother, as she let go of Aradin.

That caught his attention. Suddenly, he was looking over at her, and now she had even less of an idea what to do. She decided to do what Mother said, if only to do _something_. As she approached, he looked curiously down at her, and Aridhel wanted to shrink away. Usually she’d snap at him to look at something else, but she didn’t want to anger Mother, or this man, given he was in control of their very lives at the moment.

“So, you’re Aridhel, I take it,” he said, still looking down at her, now with something like affection. “I’ve heard a few things about you.”

“Right,” said Aridhel, very much doubting it. Mother almost never paid attention to her at home, why on earth would she tell _him_ about her?

Aradin frowned slightly at this, but Aridhel remained silent. She didn’t want to talk to him before, and she still didn’t.

“Aradin,” said Mother, cutting off the awkward moment before it lasted too long. “I have...news.”

“What is it?” asked Aradin, his attention now focused on Mother once more. Thank the Creators.

“I’m going to have another baby,” said Mother, in the same, slightly hesitant way she’d told Aridhel.

“What?” said Aradin, and Aridhel tried not to flinch as she remembered saying those exact same words. This was it. They were dead.

“That’s wonderful news!”

What? He was...happy about it? Why?

Mother laughed and threw her arms around him, and he hugged her tightly. What was going on? He wasn’t...angry or upset or...anything? This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. He was supposed to be cruel and uncaring. Why else would he have abandoned her for so long? Unless...it was just... _her_. He didn’t say he’d heard _good_ things, after all. Perhaps she’d been the only obstacle? Was this her fault?

“But, Mireth,” said Aradin, now releasing Mother and looking concerned, “what about your Clan—when Aridhel was born…”

“Yes, yes that’s what I came to talk to you about!” said Mother, her eyes now becoming wide and panicked. “We have to go back to Clan Sabrae, Aradin, if Keeper Lanira finds out, she’ll kill us. Won’t she Aridhel?” said Mother now looking down at her for support.

“She won’t throw a party that’s for sure,” muttered Aridhel, feeling more confused and alone than ever.

“She’ll...kill you? Mireth if that’s true we should go right now. I can shield you back at the Clan,” said Aradin, now frowning and grasping Mother’s hands.

“But the Clan elders…” said Mother.

“Bah. They can try to stop me, but I can guarantee they won’t lift a finger to you if I tell them my child is in danger,” said Aradin, now pulling Mother away, back towards the forest.

Aridhel wanted to scream, wanted to ask why he hadn’t taken _her_ then, as though she hadn’t constantly been in danger the longer she stayed with Clan Mahariel. But her voice wouldn’t work, it was like her throat had sealed up, as though saying something would make her stop working completely.

“The Clan’s just a few miles north of here,” said Aradin, pointing through the trees. “Once we get there you’ll be safe. Come on, Aridhel—” he said, as he noticed her just standing stock still. He began to move over to her, letting go of Mother’s hand.

But then he stopped.

He just froze, completely still, and his expression changed to one of surprise and absolute horror. Then he bent over and fell flat to the ground, completely unmoving.

Mother let out a hoarse scream as he fell and rushed over to him, turning him over, frantically looking for some sign of what had happened. It didn’t take long for her to realise. Even Aridhel could see it from here. An arrow protruding from Aradin’s chest. Blood was beginning to pool around his corpse.

Aridhel could see tears pouring down Mother’s cheeks, but they weren’t tears of sadness. They were the same tears Aridhel had seen her cry that terrible, terrible night. Tears of rage. Aridhel could feel a prickle on the back of her neck. Someone was watching her. Humans. She heard an arrow whizzing through the air, right towards where she was standing, frozen—

Then it exploded.

Mother was sitting with her hand outstretched, now looking out into the forest. Something was wrong. Her eyes, usually tired and bloodshot, now seemed to be glowing a light, electrical blue. Energy was crackling all over her body as she rose from where she sat, her clothes now covered in Aradin’s blood. She looked like some vengeful spirit, come straight through from the Fade, lighting the night on fire.

Aridhel had about two seconds to be afraid before her world exploded. Her vision was consumed with bright, intensely coloured lights, and she could feel her legs collapse from beneath her, but she didn’t feel anything as she hit the ground. She didn’t know how long she stayed like that, colours flashing before her eyes, not knowing what was going on, but by the time the colours faded into black, and her vision began to come back to her, the clearing had changed dramatically.

The trees lining it had been stripped completely bare, exposing the humans that had been lurking within. Or at least, what was left of them. Burnt out corpses lined the remains of the clearing—some of them screaming, some lying on the floor, obviously killed in agony. Aridhel could feel tears flowing down her cheeks, even though she still wasn’t really sure what was happening. Mother was sitting down again next to Aradin’s body. He was dead...her father. She wasn’t even sure if she should be upset.

Everything else seemed to vanish around her. They still had one chance left to live. They needed to get back to the Clan—Clan Sabrae? And Mother was coming with her whether she liked it or not. She might not care about Mother, but she did care about her sibling. They _would_ survive this.

She staggered over to Mother, even though her legs felt numb beneath her, and, with all her strength, put an arm under her mother’s shoulder, and tried to lift her to her feet. It was difficult though, and Mother seemed dead to the world around her, not moving at all as Aridhel tried to pull her to her feet. Fine. She’d just have to drag her. North, he’d said? Then that’s where they would go.


	13. Safety?

Aridhel didn’t know how long she’d been walking when she finally saw lights in the distance. Mother’s weight was impossibly heavy on her shoulders, and her vision was starting to go blurry as she staggered through the night. This was their last chance. She had to get to the Clan. It was the only thing left. As she continued moving forward, one foot, then the other, she was reminded of what Marin had told her. It seemed so long ago now. How her grandmother had wandered into their camp one night, drawn there by the lights of their campfires. Now she was doing the same thing. Had her grandmother felt something like this as she stumbled there that night? She had no way of knowing. It was lost to time.

She managed to reach the edge of the light cast on the ground around the aravels before she felt her legs give out underneath her.

No!

She couldn’t stop now. It was just a little further. Then she could find someone. Then she could get help.

Though it ached like someone was setting her on fire, she forced one leg out, and used it to push herself upwards. She managed to stand upright. Her head was burning. Slowly, horribly slowly, she tried to put one leg out in front of her. The moment she tried to lean on it, it buckled under her weight, and all at once she was flying towards the ground again. She just about managed to catch herself with one of her arms as she hit the rock and dirt of the forest floor.

Her vision was blurred. The world seemed to be spinning as she tried to look up from the ground. Something was happening. Someone was shouting? Probably shouting at her. There was a blaze of colour from above her. Was someone there? She had no idea. It was so loud. All she wanted was to go to sleep. Everything seemed to be fading away…

Then there was a splashing sound, and her face was icy cold. She blinked wildly as she tried to get the water out of her eyes.

“Stay with us da’len,” said a voice from just above her. It was a calm, but strong voice. Someone she’d never met before. “You have to be strong. Can you do that for me?”

Aridhel tried to nod, but quickly stopped as it hurt her head. Then she felt a light, tingling sensation in her hand, as someone held it tight. Healing magic? She felt her mind coming slowly back to her.

“That’s it, slowly does it,” said the voice, and Aridhel realised that someone had their arms around her and was holding her close. It was a strange sensation. “Can you hear me, da’len?”

“Yes,” whispered Aridhel, who quickly found that her throat was impossibly sore.

“Here, water, to soothe your throat,” said the voice, and Aridhel felt someone press a cup into her hand.

Aridhel brought it to her lips and drank deeply. The water was cold and pure, and it made some of the pain fade away as she felt her senses slowly return to her. Though her head was still aching fiercely, she could now just about make out where she was. The voice, the person that had been tending to her took form before her eyes. She was a young woman with long black hair, braided into a bun, and kind brown eyes. Her white vallaslin formed a flower-like pattern over her dark skin. She smiled as she saw Aridhel coming back into consciousness.

“Can you tell us what happened da’len?” she asked, her expression now one of worry.

“We had to leave,” said Aridhel, trying to put together what had happened in her now mangled thoughts. “Humans...they shot him. Mother destroyed them.”

“Him?” asked the woman, who looked more concerned than ever.

“ _Him_ ,” hissed Aridhel, as she gradually began to remember precisely what had happened. “Aradin. The one Mother…”

Loves? She couldn’t bring herself to say it.

“Alright,” said the woman, now frowning deeply. “Thank you da’len, you’ve been a great help.”

A...help? She couldn’t remember ever having been a help before.

“Ashalle!” said the woman, calling to someone else, on the other side of the campfire. That was where she was, Aridhel realised, by one of the campfires. It was so warm. The woman, Ashalle had come hurrying over. “Take care of this child Ashalle, I must tell Marethari what she has just told me.”

“Of course, Healer Arida,” said Ashalle.

Aridhel felt herself being lifted and transferred into the arms of this other woman...Ashalle. She seemed a bit older than Healer Arida, with a few lines beginning to show on her face, but her hair was still full of colour, so she couldn’t be too old. She smiled as she looked down at Aridhel. Aridhel felt...strange. She still didn’t know what was happening.

“What’s going on?” she asked, looking blearily up at Ashalle, who sighed and leant back slightly.

Damn it. Wrong thing to say. She’d messed up.

“Our Keeper is missing, da’len,” she said, looking sad...almost disappointed.

Wait...Aradin. He’d had robes like Keeper Lanira. Surely that didn’t mean…

“And the woman you brought with you…”

“What’s happened to Mother?” asked Aridhel, now sitting up straight, completely on the alert.

“She’s your mother?” asked Ashalle, looking quite surprised, then the look faded. “Of course...the hair,” she muttered.

“Please,” said Aridhel, putting her hands on Ashalle’s shoulders, like she’d seen some of the adults do in the Clan when they wanted to say something important.

“Of course, da’len,” said Ashalle, quickly paying attention to Aridhel once more. “Your mother...she went into labour not long after you collapsed. I’m surprised you didn’t hear her, but you were…”

“She’s having her baby?” said Aridhel, now, for what might be the first time in her life, afraid _for_ her mother. Mother had said it should be two months until the baby was born. This was too early. Much too early.

“Calm down, da’len, don’t strain yourself—”

“I have a name!” cried Aridhel, unsure why she was so upset about it, but everything seemed like it was too much at that moment. “My name is Aridhel. My name…”

She could feel tears running down her cheeks again. Why was everything so confusing?

“It’s alright Aridhel, our First is looking after your mother, she’s in safe hands,” said Ashalle, brushing Aridhel’s hair out of her eyes, which only made her think of Mother, and _that_ night, and everything was too much!

It was all too much!

She had to get out. She was trapped, someone was holding her tightly, but then...but then everything began to fade away. Healer Arida had returned. Darkness clouded her vision. The world around her disappeared. Sleep took her at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the comfort section of this fic! Aridhel might finally get some relief from...well, her life, now. This was very cathartic to write. Aridhel deserves some happiness.


	14. A Final Confrontation

When Aridhel awoke, she wasn’t immediately sure where she was. She seemed to be inside an aravel, lying in a hammock strung between the walls. But that wasn’t right...her Clan always used tents to sleep in once they settled. But wait...her Clan.

Everything came rushing back. Keeper Lanira’s fury the day they left the Clan for good, meeting _him_ , no, Aradin for the first time, him dying, Mother exploding, reaching this new Clan, Arida and Ashalle. Her head was still aching. She reached up to rub her eyes and found someone had stuck a bandage to her face. Oh, right. That was where Keeper Lanira had cut her. Mother had forgotten to bring any healing supplies and Aridhel didn’t know any healing magic, so she’d had to leave it and hope it healed naturally. It didn’t seem to hurt as much as it had before. That woman...Arida. She’d been a healer. She’d probably soothed the pain and closed the cut for her. That was what she’d seen Pirva do before, anyway.

Aridhel looked around curiously at her new surroundings. The aravel was large and had a light, earthy smell to it. She’d been sleeping in one of two hammocks in the tent, the other seemed to have been strung up more recently, as the cloth seemed less faded than the one Aridhel had been lying in. It was odd to sleep suspended from the ground. Even when the aravels were moving, she and Mother had always slept in bedrolls on the floor.

Wait—Mother! She was in trouble!

Aridhel leapt out of the hammock and began quickly making for the door of the aravel, only to be stopped in her tracks as she ran into Ashalle, who was entering.

“Aridhel!” said Ashalle, surprised, as Aridhel backed away in alarm. What if Ashalle was angry with her? “You gave me quite a shock there, da’len,” she said, now smiling.

Well, she wasn’t angry, so that was probably good. Still, she needed to get to Mother. She began to head towards the door, but Ashalle stepped in front of it.

“Where are you going, Aridhel?” she asked, now frowning slightly. “It’s dark outside.”

“It’s dark?” asked Aridhel, who now saw that what Ashalle said was true, and the light she thought she’d seen from outside was torchlight.

She also noticed the windows in the sides she hadn’t seen before, and saw the darkness of the night sky outside. The aravel was lit by magical lights, not unlike the tents back...home? Was that really the right word for it? There were _some_ similarities between Clans after all.

“How long was I asleep?” she wondered aloud, not particularly expecting Ashalle to answer her.

“You slept through most of the day, da’len,” said Ashalle, taking her slightly by surprise. “We didn’t want to rouse you. You’ve been through a lot, I think, these past few days?”

“That’s...one way of putting it,” said Aridhel, sighing deeply. She didn’t want to tell Ashalle precisely what had happened to her for the past few days. She suspected it wouldn’t go over well.

“Still, a smile would go a long way to making you feel better, don’t you think?” asked Ashalle, smiling down at her even as she said it.

Aridhel frowned. She didn’t really have much to smile about...but, if it would make Ashalle happy, so she wouldn’t bother her… She tried smiling, though it almost hurt to do it.

“That’s it!” said Ashalle, now smiling even more widely.

Aridhel didn’t really understand why that made her so happy, but perhaps that was something only adults understood. She looked back at the door. She still needed to go and see Mother.

“What is it, Aridhel?” asked Ashalle, now sitting down in the newer hammock, the one Aridhel hadn’t been sleeping in.

“I need to see Mother,” said Aridhel, seeing little point in lying to Ashalle about it.

“Mother...oh yes, of course!” said Ashalle, as though she’d just remembered something. “Your mother is fine, da’len. She had her baby safely.”

Aridhel exhaled deeply. She suddenly felt extremely tired, as though she’d been running for a long time.

“Is it...is it alright?” she asked, almost afraid of the answer.

“The baby is small and very weak, but with care, she should be fine,” said Ashalle, smiling warmly at Aridhel.

“She?”

“Oh yes, a little baby girl!” said Ashalle, brightly. “Unfortunately your mother’s been resting since she gave birth, so she’s still without a name, but no doubt she’ll wake soon enough.”

“Can I...see her?” asked Aridhel, though she honestly wasn’t sure she had the energy.

Ashalle frowned slightly. Aridhel knew the answer before she said it.

“As I said, da’len, the baby is still very weak, so you may have to wait until tomorrow to see her. Why not rest for now? She’ll still be there in the morning, and you look very tired,” said Ashalle, leaning down and attempting to brush her hair out of her eyes again.

Aridhel caught her hand before she could, almost instinctively. Ashalle pulled back slightly in shock as she did this, and Aridhel finally got a clear look at her face. To her surprise, she noticed Ashalle’s eyes were red and puffy, as though she’d recently been crying. For all her cheery demeanour, it seemed as though she was really very sad. But what about?

Ashalle gently pulled her hand away, and Aridhel let her go.

“Sorry, Aridhel...you don’t like people touching your face, I take it?” said Ashalle, now quite solemn.

“I…” Aridhel hesitated. What could she possibly say to that? So many things had happened. Terrible things. Things she could never speak about to this woman she barely even knew. “No,” she said, at last finding an answer. “No, I don’t.”

“I’ll remember that in future,” said Ashalle, looking a little sad. “Are you sure you don’t want to rest, Aridhel?”

“I...I’ll try,” said Aridhel, sighing.

It was true she was very tired, but she had no idea if she would be able to truly get to sleep.

“Sleep well, da’len,” said Ashalle, leaning back in her own hammock, dimming the lights in the tent with a gesture, and turning over.

Aridhel cautiously got back into the hammock she’d been sleeping in, trying not to flip it over. As she leaned back and looked up at the ceiling however, she knew immediately that she wasn’t going to get any sleep. Her eyes were tired but her mind was churning. Mother was alright...what did that mean for her? She didn’t have Aradin as protection anymore. It was possible that once they found out what had happened, the Clan would turn around and kick both her and Mother out again for all the trouble they’d caused. For not saving Aradin.

Ashalle seemed nice enough, but she wouldn’t be able to stop the rest of the Clan from turning against her and Mother. And this baby...a baby girl. Her sister. Aridhel wasn’t even sure what to think. All this time, Mother’s baby had been a terrible weight on her mind. The trouble it might bring...but they were in a different Clan now. Perhaps it wouldn’t matter? Perhaps this really could be a new life.

Aridhel turned once more to look at the inside of the aravel. It was almost too dark to see, but Aridhel’s eyes quickly adjusted to the moonlight shining in through the windows. There was a bow and quiver in the corner of the aravel, next to an array of pegs, on which several different sets of clothes were hung. Ashalle must be a hunter for the Clan. There were a few books stacked next to her hammock. She liked reading too. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad.

Aridhel frowned. Even though her body still ached and her nerves felt frayed, she found herself restless. She needed to move. She watched Ashalle closely, monitoring her breathing. She was still awake. Aridhel would need to wait until she was asleep if she wanted to go outside.

After about half an hour of watching the steady rise and fall of Ashalle’s chest, Aridhel determined she was properly asleep, and probably wouldn’t notice Aridhel sneaking out. Careful to make only the smallest sound, Aridhel got out of her hammock and crept towards the door. She froze for a moment as Ashalle stirred slightly in her sleep, then slowly, quietly opened the door, and crept outside.

There was a chill wind in the air as Aridhel emerged into the night. A couple of the torches were still lit, but most had burned out as the night wore on. Aridhel wasn’t quite sure what she wanted to do. She had an intense need to do _something_ , but what that something might be completely eluded her. She began to move forward, wandering aimlessly through the aravels. There were a few lonely tents towards the edge of camp, probably temporary workstations or storage places.

Then something caught her attention, just out of the corner of her eye. Someone was sitting on a rock, right at the edge of the camp, looking out into the forest. Aridhel couldn’t quite tell who it was, but decided to approach cautiously, if only to assess whether or not they would turn and alert the camp to her presence. The closer she got, however, the more familiar the figure became, until she became sure of their identity.

It was Mother.

She was sitting and staring blankly straight ahead, apparently deaf to the world around her. Aridhel wasn’t sure if she wanted to speak to her. So many things had happened, but something about her seemed...different than it had before.

After killing the bandits that had attacked them, it was as though Mother’s soul had somehow left her. She had been...empty, unresponsive to the world outside her head. She seemed the same now, sitting on the rock, looking out into space, her eyes not moving at all. Aridhel took another step towards her.

“Mother?” she asked, not really expecting an answer.

Mother didn’t turn to look at her, but she did lift her head slightly, as if she had heard what Aridhel had said.

“Are you...there?” asked Aridhel, taking another cautious step towards her, not entirely sure why she was doing it. It felt important somehow.

Mother finally turned towards her with that question, and Aridhel tried not to flinch back.

Her face looked more lined, and haggard than it had before, as though she had aged several years over the course of the past few days. She was thinner, and she seemed incredibly tired and worn out. But her eyes. As she looked at Aridhel, Aridhel could see deep into her eyes, and behind them was simply...emptiness.

Mother frowned slightly as she recognised Aridhel.

“So, you’re still here,” she said, and her voice was hoarse and cracked, as though she’d been screaming.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” asked Aridhel, now a touch annoyed. As though she would simply leave after all they’d been through to get here.

“I suppose that’s a good thing,” said Mother, her tone very distant, as though she wasn’t really concentrating. “There’ll be someone left that way.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m leaving, Aridhel,” she said, turning away from her again.

“What?” asked Aridhel, not sure if she’d heard right. Leaving? Why would Mother be _leaving_ at a time like this? “You’re going back to the Clan?”

Mother gave a short laugh. It wasn’t a nice laugh.

“Oh no,” she said, and she actually sounded...angry. “I’m never going back. Don’t worry, Aridhel. You won’t be seeing me again.”

“But why?” asked Aridhel, completely bewildered, unable to understand what her mother was telling her. “Where are you going?”

“Into the forest. Away from all this. Forever. There’s nothing left for me here now.”

“That’s it?” spat Aridhel, now furious, unable to contain her anger. “ _He’s_ gone so you’re just...giving up? What about the baby? What about _me?_ ”

Mother turned back towards her, and there was a different expression on her face now. Aridhel had expected her to be angry, like she had been last time...but she wasn’t. Instead she looked confused—dazed, almost. As though she was looking at Aridhel, and, for the first time, was actually _seeing_ her. As though she’d just realised she was there. That she was...a person.

Aridhel didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“I don’t know,” said Mother, and...she was telling the truth.

Aridhel felt an overwhelming sense of...grief. She wasn’t quite sure why. She wasn’t sad about Mother leaving, or at least, she didn’t think so. But her words were like some final confirmation. Confirmation that it really was for nothing. That Mother had never really cared about her. That she’d never really considered Aridhel to be...worth thinking about. She didn’t know why that knowledge upset her. She’d always suspected as much, always told herself that was the case whenever she thought about it, but perhaps she’d never quite believed it. Perhaps there was some small part in the back of her mind that needed to believe that underneath all the hysterics and the manipulation and the neglect, her mother really did care about her.

But now that was gone.

“I see,” said Aridhel, her voice flat, unable to muster any emotion.

“Do you…do you think you’ll be alright?” asked Mother, and she seemed hesitant, unsure.

Now it was Aridhel’s turn to laugh. And she did. It wasn’t happy laughter, or even sarcastic laughter. It was just noise, some way to express _something_ even if she didn’t really know what exactly she was feeling.

“Do you even care?” she asked, unable to keep the incredulity out of her voice.

Mother frowned at that.

“...No,” she said, and Aridhel felt a few tears begin to fall down her cheeks.

“Well, at least you’re being honest now, I suppose,” she muttered, as though that made up for the years of suffering.

“I suppose I should...say goodbye,” said Mother, still frowning.

Aridhel shook her head.

“No,” she said, and she was surprised how...harsh her voice sounded. “I don’t need a goodbye. I don’t need _anything_ from you anymore.” It was hard to talk through her tears. “All you should do _now_...is go.”

Mother rose from where she was sitting. Aridhel forgot how tall she was when she was standing at her full height.

“Alright,” she said, and she smiled.

It was a genuine smile. Perhaps the first time she’d ever seen one directed at her. And it only lasted a few seconds before it was gone. Aridhel watched as Mother jumped off the rock and began walking towards the forest, and kept watching until all she could see was Mother’s shadow, disappearing into the trees. Then she was gone. Just like that. The source of so much pain, so much _agony_ and now she was...nothing. Just a figure, disappearing into the trees.

Aridhel could feel tears dripping down her cheeks, but inside she felt nothing. Just a vast empty space. Like someone had torn her heart out of her chest and left a great hole inside. She frowned. She didn’t want to cry over this. It wasn’t _worth_ crying over. But she did.

That great tiredness she’d felt when she was told her sister had been born seemed to come back at full force, crushing her where she stood. She was exhausted. She began to stagger back to the aravel she’d been sleeping in before.

She didn’t even bother to see if she had woken Ashalle as opened the door to the aravel. She took a few steps, then collapsed back into her hammock, all her energy leaving her at once. It was mere minutes until she found herself lost in sleep once more.


	15. Morning Breaks

Aridhel was woken by someone gently shaking her by the shoulders. Instinctively she moved to bat Mother away, but her memories quickly came rushing back. Mother was gone. Ashalle was the one shaking her awake. 

“Da’len? Aridhel?” she asked, and Aridhel quickly noticed she sounded very worried. 

“Yes?” said Aridhel, slowly coming to. 

“Aridhel, I’m sorry I have...bad news,” said Ashalle, and Aridhel saw that she seemed close to tears. 

A terrible thought surfaced in her mind. 

“No—the baby?” she asked, almost afraid to hear the answer. 

“The baby?” asked Ashalle, looking confused. “No, no I’m sorry da’len, the baby is fine, but...your mother…”

Aridhel felt a great weight lift off her chest. The baby was fine. That was all that mattered now. Mother could rot in the Beyond. She might already be there. But, of course, she wasn’t supposed to know that yet. 

“What’s happened to her?” asked Aridhel, attempting to feign surprise. 

“She’s...gone,” said Ashalle, frowning. “We don’t know what happened, our hunters are looking for her as we speak.” 

Aridhel resisted the urge to tell Ashalle they shouldn’t bother. Still, Mother was smart enough not to be caught if she didn’t want to be. Those hunters wouldn’t find anything. 

“There’s...something else you should know, da’len,” said Ashalle, and now she looked upset again. “Your Keeper...she’s here.”

“What!” said Aridhel, now wide awake and on the alert. 

If Keeper Lanira was here that might mean she would be dragged back to the Clan, where they might kill her, or worse, for what had happened with the scrolls and Mother. She couldn’t let that happen. Not after they’d come so far. 

“Hush now, da’len,” said Ashalle, trying to calm her. “Our First—no, Keeper, Marethari, is speaking with her. We won’t let them take you against your will, I promise you, Aridhel,” said Ashalle, now looking deep into her eyes. 

Aridhel wanted to believe her, that this new Clan would keep her safe. But she couldn’t. She needed to see this woman, Marethari. She couldn’t go back to Clan Mahariel. She couldn’t. 

Aridhel shook her head. 

“I need to see her,” she said, praying that Ashalle would understand. “Please.”

Ashalle frowned, but then sighed. 

“Alright, Aridhel. If that’s what you think is best.”

“It is,” she said, quickly jumping out of the hammock. It had to be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, Keeper Lanira is a menace everywhere she goes. And guess who that baby will grow up to be! Someone who isn't destined for happiness, that's who. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you to everyone who decided to read, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and if so, let me know!


	16. Confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another brief warning that the abuse inflicted on Aridhel is discussed in a bit more detail in this chapter, so feel free to nope out if that isn't your thing.

It wasn’t difficult to spot where Keeper Lanira and Keeper Marethari were talking once Aridhel emerged from the aravel. There was a large gathering around the campfire in the centre of the camp. Aridhel quickly made her way over to it, Ashalle not far behind her, as the meeting came into view.

Keeper Lanira was standing as tall and ominous as ever, her terrifying visage not having dimmed in the slightest while Aridhel was away. Marin was standing by her side, his ever-present sneer still stretched across his face. Opposite Keeper Lanira, a severe-looking woman was staring her down. Her hair was streaked with white, and golden vallaslin adorned her face, her green eyes narrowed as she looked at Keeper Lanira. That must be Keeper Marethari.

“Our Clan has a right to her, Marethari, and you know it,” said Keeper Lanira, not paying attention as Aridhel crept in from the sidelines.

“Even if this child _has_ stolen from you Lanira, her mother took refuge in _our_ Clan and her sibling was born here,” said Keeper Marethari, frowning deeply. “You do know the rules about the place of birth, don’t you?”

“That only applies to children born to parents without a clan,” snarled Keeper Lanira, causing Marethari to frown.

“And here I thought you pursuing this child and her mother in anger, Lanira. You mean to say they have not been cast out from your Clan?”

“They are members of the Clan, and as such should undergo the proper punishment—” said Keeper Lanira, then suddenly cut herself off.

“Girl,” she said, and Aridhel felt every muscle in her body tense up. “I know you’re there. Come here. We’re talking about you.”

Everyone in the crowd quickly started looking around, presumably for her. No good hiding now. She made her way to the front of the crowd, and stood before Keeper Lanira, just like she had as a young child. She would not be afraid this time. She couldn’t be.

“You know, it’s rude to talk about people when they aren’t there,” she said, scowling at Keeper Lanira. She would not be afraid.

Keeper Lanira gave a horrible, leering smile.   

“How bold of you to speak to me in that way, when mere days ago you had the gall to steal from me,” she said, her voice full of menace. “Don’t think you have escaped punishment, _da’len_. Even if you stay with this Clan, they have the right to punish you as well. Isn’t that right, Marethari?”

“We will decide a course of action about this alleged ‘stealing’ once we decide which Clan this child and her sibling belong to,” said Keeper Marethari, her face no less severe.

Aridhel felt some of her reassurance ebb away. There was no way this Clan could be any worse than Clan Mahariel, but still, this could be bad.

“I’m glad to see Clan Sabrae hasn’t forgotten the importance of the law,” said Keeper Lanira, now turning her smile on Marethari, who continued to frown.

“I’ll admit, I’m surprised you want custody of these children, Lanira,” said Marethari.

“Just because she is a child does not mean she can escape punishment by fleeing to another clan!” said Keeper Lanira, now getting agitated.

Aridhel thought it might be the first time she’d seen Keeper Lanira get angry in front of the rest of the Clan. Just as Keeper Lanira was speaking, however, Airda came up next to Marethari and whispered something in her ear. As soon as Keeper Lanira finished speaking, Marethari held up her hand, indicating discussion should stop.

“As much as I believe this discussion should be seen to as soon as possible, Lanira,” said Marethari, and Aridhel thought she saw the traces of a mocking smile on her face. “My Healer has informed me of something which requires my urgent attention. We will continue this once it is dealt with.”

Keeper Lanira scowled but didn’t offer any protest. That might sour the Clan’s image of her, and she couldn’t have that. Aridhel looked back over at Marethari, who was now looking intently at _her_. Aridhel fought the urge to back away. Marethari subtly beckoned her over as the crowd began to disperse, and Aridhel thought that it was probably best to comply. She wandered over to where Marethari stood, Healer Arida standing just next to her.

“Come inside the aravel, da’len,” said Marethari, indicating the structure she was standing next to. “There’s something I want to discuss with you.”

Arida apparently took this as a signal for her to leave, as she bowed slightly to Marethari, and began to walk across the clearing, back over to where Ashalle was standing, not far away. Aridhel felt her stomach drop slightly. Keeper Lanira had accused her of stealing. She was almost certainly about to be interrogated about it. Still, she could hardly run away now.

With a quiet sigh, she entered the aravel, Marethari following closely behind her. As Marethari went over to shut the door, Aridhel noticed how large the aravel was. Probably because she was the Keeper now. It was a little less bright in the aravel than it was outside, making it seem a little calmer than it might otherwise. The inside of the aravel appeared to be in some disarray, however, with a lot of boxes strewn about, filled with various personal items.

Aridhel was too nervous to really concentrate though, and instead watched carefully as Keeper Marethari strode towards the centre of the room. There was what appeared to be a table there, fixed to the floor so it wouldn’t slide while the aravel was moving. Marethari sat cross-legged on a mat next to the table, and indicated Aridhel should do the same.

Aridhel cautiously moved over, and sat opposite Marethari, who smiled as she took her seat, then quickly became serious again.

“Now, da’len, do you know why I wanted to talk to you?” she asked, her voice giving nothing away.

Aridhel averted her gaze.

“It’s about what Keeper Lanira said, isn’t it?” she sighed, not even bothering to pretend she wasn’t miserable. “About stealing.”

Marethari simply smiled at that, not the horrible, leering smile Keeper Lanira always seemed to wear, but a nice smile. A sympathetic smile.

“No, not this time, da’len,” she said, and now her voice was soft, as though she didn’t want to alarm Aridhel.

Aridhel frowned. If not that, then what? She could think of no other thing Keeper Marethari would want to ask her about. It wasn’t like she could know what happened with Mother...could she?

“Aridhel,” she said, her face serious, “could you show me your arms, please?”

Her arms? Why would she want to see her arms? Aridhel reluctantly extended them. Hopefully this wouldn’t involve them being grabbed again. She’d had enough of that for several lifetimes.

Marethari frowned as she looked at them, and Aridhel could guess why. All along her arms were a pattern of vivid bruises, some from the aforementioned grabbing, some inflicted as punishment when she got a spell or incantation wrong during her magic lessons. Not that Keeper Lanira had ever said so officially. She had a tendency to simply get the switch she kept nearby and swipe it down viciously on Aridhel’s arms, with no warning, rather than simply telling her she was doing it wrong. There were also a few scars where Keeper Lanira had grasped her a bit too hard with her long nails and broken through skin.

Aridhel felt a hot prickle under her arms as Marethari inspected them. She didn’t like being examined so closely.

Marethari sighed slightly, then looked back up at Aridhel’s face.

“Now, Aridhel, I want you to answer me truthfully,” said Marethari, with a solemn, serious voice. “Did Keeper Lanira do this?” she asked, pointing at Aridhel’s arms.

Aridhel opened her mouth to speak, but found her voice stuck in her throat. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t speak. Her hands were shaking. Saying it would mean it was true, that she wouldn’t be able to hide it and deny it later. It would be admitting _she_ let it happen, admitting she’d hidden it up until now. Admitting her complicity. She felt tears rolling down her cheeks again as her throat burned with shame. Her face was heating up. She couldn’t do this.

Aridhel heard Marethari sigh from the other side of the table. She was disappointed. Damn it! Could she do nothing right?

She was surprised when she felt something soft graze the back of her hand. She looked up. Marethari was offering her a small white cloth.

“Dry your eyes, da’len,” she said, a kindly smile on her face. She...wasn’t upset? “If you cannot use your voice, simply use your head. Shake it for no, nod for yes.”

Aridhel took a deep, shuddering breath as she wiped her eyes and nose with the cloth. She had to do this, even if it might be the most painful thing she’d ever done. She nodded her head.

“I see,” said Keeper Marethari, then turned her head away, so Aridhel couldn’t see her expression.

Aridhel felt frozen in place. What was going to happen now? Her mind was just pulling up blanks. She’d never even thought about telling anyone before. Marethari turned back to face her. Her eyes seemed redder than they were before.

“If it does not disturb you too much, Aridhel, I will bring Keeper Lanira in here to continue this,” she said, and Aridhel felt some of the blood rushing out of her face. “Don’t worry da’len,” said Marethari, noticing Aridhel’s distress. “I won’t let them take you. Not after this.”

“Alright,” said Aridhel, though her voice wavered with uncertainty.

Marethari smiled at her, then got up and opened the door to the aravel.

“I will not be long,” she said, then disappeared out of sight.

Aridhel could hear her heart beating fast in her chest. There was a slight ringing in her ears. She felt dizzy. So much had happened, and all so quickly. What would Keeper Lanira say when she saw her? Surely she wouldn’t try to intimidate her in front of Marethari? Everything seemed uncertain now. Aridhel took another look around at the aravel in an attempt to distract herself. So many boxes...things being packed away, perhaps? But why? Would the Clan be leaving soon? Aridhel frowned. There was something she was missing, but she was too confused to know for certain what it was. Her palms were slick with sweat. Hopefully Marethari wouldn’t be too much longer.


	17. Freedom

It felt to Aridhel like almost an hour before Marethari returned to the aravel, though in reality it had only been around ten minutes. Aridhel couldn’t stop her hands from shaking as the door opened and Keeper Lanira was silhouetted by the light outside. Just like when she was a child. She shrank back instinctively, before remembering what Marethari had told her and sitting up straight again. She would not be afraid. But that didn’t stop her stomach from churning as Keeper Lanira stepped into the aravel, her huge, raven-like demeanour not at all diminished by her surroundings. Marethari stepped in quickly behind her. Good. Keeper Lanira couldn’t do anything while someone else was there.

Marethari returned to her seat opposite Aridhel.

“Care to sit down next to us, Lanira?” asked Marethari, patting the ground where she wanted Keeper Lanira to sit.

Keeper Lanira merely snorted and remained standing, now glaring down at them both.

“Care to tell me what this is about, Marethari?” she asked, and Aridhel noticed her voice sounded strained, as though she was resisting the urge to shout.

“I thought you would have guessed that by now, Lanira,” said Marethari, raising her eyebrows in perfectly polite surprise. “Since you seemed so intent on discussing it earlier.”

Keeper Lanira stared down at Aridhel, her sightless eyes not moving at all, completely focused on her. Aridhel had no idea how Keeper Lanira knew she was there, given she hadn’t made a sound since she entered, but she always seemed to know precisely where Aridhel was at all times, so it hardly came as a surprise anymore.

“ _You_ ,” she said, not even bothering to hide the disgust in her voice. “I take it you have decided on the fate of this girl, Marethari?” she asked, now turning back to her. “I’ll take this moment to let you recall the clan laws, with regard to someone attempting to flee their punishment.”

Marethari’s lips were set in a tight line.

“I do remember the laws, Lanira. It is a shame you do not,” she said, and now there was a touch of anger in her voice.

“How dare you—” hissed Lanira, but she was quickly cut off as Marethari continued to speak.

“Perhaps you have forgotten one of our most sacred laws, Lanira?” she asked, her disdain now obvious. “Never, through action or inaction, should physical harm be allowed to come to a child of the clans if it can possibly be prevented. Of course, you’ve gone far beyond that, haven’t you?”

“You _dare_ accuse me—” spluttered Keeper Lanira, but Marethari quickly cut her off again.

“I have seen what your actions have done to this girl,” spat Keeper Marethari. “I doubt you realise it, but your abuse has left marks—marks which are perfectly easy to see, should anyone wish to do so. Do not attempt to argue, Lanira. You are only embarrassing yourself.”

“Marks?” asked Keeper Lanira, mimicking surprise uncannily. “Why, Aridhel—you never said—”

“I didn’t have to!” hissed Aridhel, anger boiling through her veins. “You used a switch on my arms! You dug your nails into them until they bled! Don’t pretend you didn’t know!”

Keeper Lanira snarled and made a move towards her, but Marethari quickly stood up, blocking her way.

“You will not come anywhere near this child again, Lanira,” said Marethari, now clearly furious. “I am revoking Clan Mahariel’s custody of her. From now on she is a part of our Clan. You have no say in this, Lanira.”

“You will regret this Marethari,” hissed Keeper Lanira, her face now an ugly red colour.

“On the contrary, Lanira, I think _you_ will regret this,” said Marethari, scowling deeply. “You will be shamed at the next Arlathvehn for what you have done to this child. Everyone will know of how Clan Mahariel thinks it can treat its children. I do not want to lay eyes on you until then. Do you understand me, Lanira?”

“I know when I’m not wanted, Marethari,” said Keeper Lanira, barely keeping herself from growling. “I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

Keeper Lanira then stormed over to the door of the aravel, and slammed it behind her as she left. There was a deafening silence in the room for a few moments, before Aridhel exhaled deeply, trying to get some of her composure back. Marethari turned and smiled at her as she did this, getting down on her knees to talk to Aridhel directly.

“You were very brave, da’len,” she said, putting her hand on Aridhel’s shoulder. “I hope you will find staying here is better than what came before.”

“I...think I’ll be fine,” said Aridhel, trying not to smile too widely.

Marethari had defended her! She’d protected her from Keeper Lanira! And now she was...gone.

Suddenly a strange emptiness filled her chest. The same emptiness she’d felt when Mother left. What happened after this? Her mind was buzzing, but she could find no answers. It didn’t make sense. Keeper Lanira was gone now? She wouldn’t come back? Aridhel would never have to see her again? She should be happy. She should be _thrilled_ about this but...she wasn’t. She didn’t know what life was like without Keeper Lanira. Surely it couldn’t be any worse, but...she didn’t know. It frightened her. She frowned. Marethari wasn’t paying attention though.

“We will perform the official ceremony to induct you into the Clan as soon as possible,” she said, staring off into the distance, “but first there’s something else we must do.”

“What is it?” asked Aridhel, suspicion beginning to tug at her heart again. What if there was some sort of trial she needed to complete? What if she failed?

“Do not look so worried, da’len,” said Marethari, smiling again. “It is nothing you have done…” her smiled faded slightly, and she looked rather sad. “Your mother still has not been found by any of our hunters. I fear it’s a lost cause, though I won’t call them off until tomorrow. Nonetheless, things must go on. Your sister will need a name if she is to join the Clan.”

“You...want me to name her?” asked Aridhel, now completely confused.

“Yes. In the absence of her mother, you are her closest relative, so the responsibility goes to you.”

“But I…”

Aridhel didn’t know how to finish. So much was happening. She needed to name her sister? But she didn’t know any names. Her mind was completely blank.

“Take your time, da’len,” said Marethari, now smiling once more. “You will need to see her before you can name her, and Ashalle and I will be there to assist you, should you want us to. We would have done the same had we been with your mother. Don’t fret.”

“Ashalle?” asked Aridhel, too confused to wonder about anything else.

“Yes,” said Marethari, now looking a little concerned. “She has agreed to look after the two of you until your mother is found. Does that sound alright, Aridhel?”

“Yes, yes that’s fine,” said Aridhel, too tired to argue. Besides, Ashalle had seemed nice enough.

“Let’s go and find this sister of yours then,” said Marethari, offering her hand to Aridhel, who hesitated for a moment, then took it, letting Marethari lead her out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Keeper Lanira gets her comeuppance! This was probably one of my favourite scenes to write in the entire fic. There's something very satisfying about Marethari verbally eviscerating Lanira like that.


	18. Victory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter! A Warden is named and Aridhel is free of Lanira and Mother at last. It's a (mostly) happy ending!

It was darker inside the aravel where her sister was sleeping than in any other place in the camp. Probably so it wouldn’t wake her. Ashalle was sitting beside the cradle, rocking it gently back and forth as she and Marethari entered. She looked up at them and smiled, slowly bringing the cradle to a halt.

“I take it the spell held fast, Ashalle?” asked Marethari, keeping her voice quiet.

“Yes, Keeper Marethari,” said Ashalle, smiling.

Marethari walked over to look into the cradle.

“Come here, Aridhel,” she said, beckoning her over.

Aridhel moved over to the cradle, almost hesitant to see what lay within. So much had happened. Too much. Her mind was all ablaze with questions and confusion—what would happen to her now? What was Clan Sabrae really like? She’d only been there a few days, after all. What if they all ended up hating her anyway, just like Clan Mahariel? It was all too much. And that wasn’t even considering what would happen to her sister.

Aridhel edged over to the cradle. Ashalle and Marethari were looking intently at her, and it wasn’t like seeing the baby would hurt. It was just...so much.

Once contents of the cradle came into view, however, Aridhel felt some of her fear drain away. A baby lay inside—it was very small, smaller than Aridhel expected it to be, and seemed to be enveloped in a shimmering orange haze. It looked so weak. It wouldn’t be able to hurt her. But what was that light around it? Surely it couldn’t have manifested magic already? Aridhel looked up at Marethari in confusion.

“A warming spell,” said Marethari, noticing Aridhel’s look. “She was born far too soon, so she can’t keep herself warm just yet. The spell will take care of that for her.”

“I see,” said Aridhel, frowning down at her baby sister.

“Would you like to hold her?” asked Ashalle.

“Can I?” asked Aridhel. The baby looked far too small and weak to be picked up and moved around.

“As long as the spell is around her, she’ll be just fine,” said Marethari, smiling and reaching into the cradle.

She carefully pulled the baby out of the cradle, holding her in her arms. She offered the baby to Aridhel. Aridhel tentatively reached out her arms, and Marethari gently placed the child into them, then re-positioned them slightly.

“That’s it,” she said, careful not to hold Aridhel’s arms too tightly. “Make sure to support her head.”

Aridhel stared down at the child, not knowing quite what to think. A name. She had to focus on the name, otherwise she might break down crying. Nothing immediately sprang to mind. She wracked her brains.

This child was more than just her sister. So much had happened because of her. Mother had left, Keeper Lanira was gone, Aridhel was in a new Clan at last. She had been the catalyst of this, of the long battle that had led her here, and it had been _hard_. Perhaps it wasn’t quite the end yet, but for Aridhel it felt like everything was over now. She was drained, and her arms were shaking so badly she almost wanted to give the baby back to Marethari—but she held onto it. This baby was her hope. A sign that not everything was bad. If this baby was still here, then she must have done something right. Then a name came to her. The perfect name.

“I know what her name is,” she said aloud, catching Ashalle and Marethari’s attention.

“What is it, da’len?” asked Marethari, looking at her curiously.

“Yes, you must tell us!” said Ashalle, smiling brightly.

“Her name...” said Aridhel, and now she was smiling too, smiling properly this time. “Is Enasalin.”

Aridhel could feel tears rolling down her cheeks even as she smiled down at her sister. Her hope. A reminder that this time, she had won. Enasalin. _Victory_.


End file.
